He’s Typing…
Another story…
I don’t remember the day I got red on my cheek… But now the feeling is complicated.
The day I realized that I attracted to someone, in the past, I was so sure that he felt the same. That we’re in line on walking into the future. That we want to hold others ‘till… forever.
Bad things happened. Such a tragedy.
Now, I can feel those butterflies in my stomach back, and I can see my cheek blushing while seeing his message — even when he’s typing. Cause I’m waiting him all day, waiting for… I don’t know.
And before everything is too late, my defensive mind’s telling me to… stop. Stop hoping, and stop put high expectation on anything. I did. I tried so hard to stay calm and let everything flow just like water.
Bet water never hurt them self because they can adjust their shape into anything, so they will fit the obstacles they supposed to pass. Just like water, I tried to be calm and flexible so I can fix everything as good as I could as human being.
Everything will pass. Later you’ll find the answers of every questions you ever worry about.
About him, a man whom just I know for a month.
I’m — we’re — not sure of everything. We had fears, different fears, and I think it will be the first obstacles we need to pass. That we both understand what we need but still we’re not sure — or in my opinion, we’re not sure.
I can feel he was attracted to me, personally. He gave me his time and he involved me on his small decisions — and I think we have same taste of things we’d like to use, and on so many things. That makes me feel closer to him.
He held my hand while we’re crossing the road, he listened to me and seeing pains in my face, his voice is nice and calming — and he said he likes my voice either.
Feels like I’m not the one who is trying, but he also put me in the safe feelings. I could see how he made effort, but still… the other side of me tells me to not put any expectation.
People come and go, but still… you, yourself, stay.
He’s typing…
Butterflies in my stomach wriggling, and my face blushing just like teenagers who fall in love for the first time — again.
