Unspoken words dance across the table as we catch each others glaze.
A cheeky grin, a nervous laugh; as quickly as we lock eyes, we look away.
I’m terrified of what I would say, if I was ever brave enough to say anything at all.
I have these visions of how the conversation would go, often ending with tears streaming down my face. But that doesn’t matter. At least I’d actually know.
I often build up the courage, and I’m gently reminded by a little moment of how quickly things would change if I did.
I am mourning the loss of the idea of a life with you, but nobody else knows.