My bored expression turns to a mildly satisfied grin as I turn to my right to see that my three was clear. I began to walk down that direction, though walking doesn't seem to do justice to the actions that my feet decided to take to carry me down my path. It was almost like dancing.

I took small notice that the painted walls had long been re-painted and the lineoleum of the floor has cracks in it like spiderwebs beneath my bare feet. I wrote it off as poor maintenence as I continued my journey.

Normally I'm right on with body linguistics, but your posture had my mind tweak into a frightening blank as I tried to sort through your disheveled appearance. I couldn't tell what emotion your perfectly chiseled yet strikingly awkward face held as you took a drag from your cigarrette, but I could tell that you hadn't slept, as the whites of your eyes were not as vibrant as they usually were.

So as you leaned against a wall painted a melodic-hopeful tangerine, I noticed your lips pursed in thought and your eyebrows furrowed in worry and recognized those to be signs of reflection; perhaps of something you saw. You were probably confused, as confusion can hurt, especially confusion a la hearbreak.

I kick back my heels and dig them into the floor as my clumsy mouth worked furiously to make words. Minutes pass and they're not getting anywhere. Your eyes dim and you stomp on the end of your cancerous tobacco contraption. I viciously mentally curse myself for not speaking as your sillhouette disappears into the shadows. I am a failure.

I was touched. Severely touched. It scared people so much that they often widened their eyes as the saw what I would do when I was sitting alone, leaning against the wall. I would talk to myself...But as I've claimed all along, I was talking to you. They told me you never heard me, but sometimes I would look into your eyes and when you were looking into mine, I somehow felt that you heard every word...

...And if you didn't, you put on a DAMN good act.

Because you always knew exactly how I wanted to be held and exactly what I wanted you to say. So darling, hold me to your chest, your long arms wrapped over my shoulders, clinging to me like a child to their mother in the presence of an omnipotent monster so malicious it could be invisible and you'd still be scared out of your mind, and darling, whisper softly to me sweet things that a teenager would speak to their lover on the first night they made out.

I would tell them how you looked. How you always looked so majestic, or how you always wore the same shirt every Tuesday. They'd listen and pretend to care as I babbled about your beauty. I told them of your enchanting slanted eyes, of your dark messy hair, of your clothing habits, of your thick lips, long nose, and defined jaw...Of everything about your feet, how long and slender your toes were, how thin your ankles were, all the way up to your perfect calves and smooth thighs. To your bony hips and silken stomach, to your lithe chest and clearly visible collar bone. Your broad shoulders, long and thin arms, thin wrists, beautiful, artistic hands...long fingers...Oh, your fingers. You have...the most beautiful fingers.

You are perfect, it's simple and cleanly stated. Perfect like a sunless day with clouds and no rain, only a warm breeze to wrap itself around me when you're not here to do it yourself. Perfect like the taste of a summer peach, like the scent of a spring lotus, like the feeling of going to bed on Christmas Eve. The perfect feeling. The perfect person...You.

I wonder if you remember the night you came to me, but I wonder even more deeply and more often if you remember the night you left me. If I myself remember it clearly, it was a Tuesday. They were both Tuesdays. You know how I remember it? Because not only do I remember every day we met, and every day I saw you, and every day you called me just to tell me you loved me, I remember you were wearing your Tuesday Shirt. It was red, I remember, it had a kitty on it. A black kitty with slanted yellow eyes. I adored that shirt.

I also remember what you told me when we met. You said that things will never be the same if anything more than a hello was to happen, and you were right. Though when ARE things ever the same after you say more than hello to someone? I can't think of a time. That night, however, you said hello. And you ended up saying hello a lot that night. Everyone wanted to say hi, everyone wanted to be near you. You draw that sort of attention with your beauty and mysterious eyes. I walked to you and said hello myself, actually. You said hello back. You held a look in your eyes unlike any I've ever seen before...It was frightening and comforting, and it made me weak in my knees. You said that you had never felt that way about anyone else before, and I agreed and reciprocated those feelings exactly. I believe we went outside, where the maple trees smelled so sweet and the cute little magpies were outside singing softly in the background, the stars around us falling upon us. We made eye-contact and never lifted our gaze from eachother. I was yours, and you were mine...But not all mine.

I remember what you told me when we parted, as well. You told me that things would never be the same, that your feelings had dissolved, as I once described your image to do, like snow hitting wet pavement. Do you remember those days? In the snow. I do. I remember all the days we spent together, every moment we shared, every night you held me and I held you. You also said that you were sorry, but I never believed you.

Only now do I regret not apologizing in return. I would have felt so much better today if I had. But as I sit here in my wooden chair, staring blankly at the same velvet sky, the same falling stars, and the same maple tree filled with cute little magpies...I do wish I would have said sorry. I wish I would have payed more attention. I wish I would have never said hello.

But most importantly. . .

I wish with all my heart - broken or not - that I would have spoken to you before your sillhouette disappeared into the shadows. I wish I would have told you exactly what I was thinking as my world came crashing down around me - a world without you.