Meetup

After I started talking to you, 

I began to imagine 

more than a few 

scenes of our first meeting. 

 

I imagined me, you, my friend and her crush

out together to talk among all of us, 

much like a discussion 

full of analysis and questions. 

 

That we will meet in a crowded place

and maybe, never, ever again

except if we happen to cross paths later

when we will recall each other. 

 

Everything was totally different from 

how I expected it to be

is what I gained from 

when we first met for the first time physically. 

 

I won’t lie, I wasn’t shy. 

I had lost all my capacity 

to recall my questionnaire 

or to be present mindfully. 

 

Hence, I wasn’t able to respond 

as it appeared so surreal.

Once it had occurred, 

it drew on me later.

 

Maybe, I had thought of it so much

that the real didn’t feel real anymore. 

Be it your voice, presence or touch,

whether I was living it, I wasn’t sure.

 

I liked your honesty, though

that you expressed frankly

whatever was on your mind

without trying to make me feel low.

 

It may not appear to be so but I could see

a hidden concern in your advice. 

I could make out your pretence, 

an attempt to make me hate your presence 

 

by acting opposed to who you are.

Maybe, you thought that if you point

to my weight as one of my insecurities, 

I would like to move to another path

 

but even I was surprised

because I wasn’t offended by any chance

as a response to your remark

even though I didn’t have low self-esteem.

 

I was able to feel and react

in the subsequent hours left 

once we had spent the day 

and after we went our own ways.

 

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