Charmer

     Years ago you had that unexpected dream that changed the way you saw me. I remember your eyes boring into me when you told me about it. You told me you loved me, really loved me...in the dream. I halfway thought you loved me right then, but I wasn't ready to deal with it. I laughed it off and commented how funny dreams could be to make you have feelings for somebody who was completely off your radar. You flinched, as if I'd hurt you, but you recovered quickly and half-laughed as well. Our friends were listening in on our conversation, trying not to be obvious about it. Failing.

    I danced clumsily with that other guy one night, and you got jealous. I called you out and kissed you on the patio in the rain. It was a quick wet, drunken smack delivered in a moment of complete stupidity, but I closed my eyes so I wouldn't have to see that smug little smile of yours. You knew you had me then. It was only a matter of time.

     Everything's been messed up ever since. We're so scared to take that leap over the edge, we're clinging to each other, hovering right there on the precipice of truth and life and love. Somehow it comforts me to know that although we're not making any progress, at least we're not doing it together.

     Today when I saw you, I wanted to tell you about the dream I had last night that made me feel so close to you.  I looked into your deep eyes and stumbled on my own tongue. We laughed at my awkwardness. I couldn't form the words. I couldn't tell you how  you loved me, really loved me...in the dream.