A Note.

A Note.

I hope we are lying to each other when we say that we don't need each other. Because I've felt it, I have felt how much you need me. And I feel it that it is as much as I need you. We are both scared to admit that to each other, who knows why. The words are always tap dancing on my lips and I cannot help but blurt it out in my absent-mindedness. Every time I correct myself, tell myself I didn't mean to say that. 

I hope you're lying to me about not expecting things from me. I've seen in your eyes and I've heard in your words your quiet expectations, I know you'll never admit, but I can hear it, and every time I fall short of it it breaks me. 

We're both lying to each other, I think you know it too.

There's a lot of intimacy in choosing to walk a rocky road just so it is inevitable to hold hands. 

I don't feel the words too much when I write. Perhaps because I no longer need to find warmth in my words anymore. 

You always say that I'm more intelligent than you are, usually I refuse, but there are times I have to admit I am. Like I can already say that you have the forbidden feeling for me before you even identified it... Silly. I know it long before you do. I felt it before you did. I'm just waiting for you to finally find out too. And find the courage while you're at it.

I hope we both are waiting for each other. 

The same beach looking at the same hovering reflection of the distant ship. 

It's coming.