His Stage

When he was on that stage, I could stare all I want. So I told him what a great actor he was and made him go up more, so I could look at his face and memorise it, the line of his jaw, how his eyelashes curled and how he looked when he smiled.

When he was on that stage, I could pretend that the character he was playing was closer to me than he was. I could pretend that he loved me like I loved him. I could create scenarios in my head that would fit what he was doing, scenarios in which we became one.

When his train left, my heart broke. Two more days and I would see him again, but when our ways parted and I went left as he went right, my heart broke. I would forget the way he smelled only to be mesmerized by it the next Monday.

I would put my hand an inch from his trying to touch it but not daring to,

ask him questions I know the answers of.

He would look at me and smile, and for the first time it was a beautiful kind of smile, not a fun kind. Our eyes would meet when we spoke and I wanted to live in that moment.

I wanted to live in all our moments together. He would whisper in my ear, things that weren't even nice, and I would melt into his words. His warm breath on the side of my neck... My breathing would get harder.

I would lean on my chair and he would too, only a little bit, until our arms touched, his skin warm against mine. 

When I asked him what he would do if a girl asked him out,

and he said he would tell her no if he wasn't interested but he would do it nice, 

I knew he was someone I could trust my heart with. 

One day our lips would touch and I would love every second of it.

Or maybe, that's a story for another guy.