innovation.

If initially it was him that read me like an open book, nowadays feels like the opposite. It could be nothing at all. If I could say more, if I could only tell and is able to hang around like I used to or time isn't always calling on him, maybe it will turn out differently I sometimes think. Though I don't bet on it.

This is wishful thinking I am aware however if I can, I still dream of a day for just us two. A place, time, moment out of the life we live in. Like the last time he stood beside me and believed as much as I did. It's not about what I might have lost. I just want to talk. I still have my moments, where with him is exactly where I feel safe enough to linger around and sink in.

When it's just us two, time ceases to exist. Goodbyes are heard before I can ever have enough time to digest each hello. Next thing I know we're out the door. Better luck next time though these stories, they can only ever last for so long. And time has never been on my side. This too is bound to pass. It feels like a year back, except he no longer is on my track.

Feels like everybody figured however inside a bit too much for me to believe so. How do you reach out to the one who let go? Then again every time his hand lands on mine the familiarness feels like the home I've never own yet known. He was the home I own, now unknown. I don't ever know. I can never say. I don't really hope. I can't even wish. I don't dare ask and I don't want to ruin it.

Although I think I might.

-riri-