hey, you

Why do you feel so inevitable? Like I saw you on an unassuming spring day and never fully looked away.
Because why turn around when all of my life is changing just a few feet ahead? When you were quiet and unassuming and being around you was fun and intoxicating and never really made sense.
When the swiftest glance or lightest brush was the story of my night.
When standing next to you was warm enough.

It’s sweet to think that I was convinced it was a perfect secret, like I’d made myself small enough to seem indecipherable and mysterious.

That could never have been the case, but how was I to know?
Backsliding takes one small slip; a bad week, or desire for burn-inducing nostalgia, along with needing to remember that I used to be someone else. Someone trusting and brand new.
Back when I could tell you that I was writing about you, instead of stealing lines from the sky by dark moonlight.
When you were my ‘dusk ‘til dawn’.
When all of my journals knew about the curve of your eyelashes
and imagined the exact scenario that played out so far into the future.

Call me a prophetess or a girl on the precipice of having too much of something, I don’t care. But don’t call me ‘almost’.