97 Nights with an Almost Lover

Saturdays are nice. Saturday is when I finally have more time to myself — I get to read the books I still haven’t finished, I get to laze around, I get to spend several hours with you that I can’t get any other day. Saturdays are nice, and when accompanied with your beloved presence, they should become even better.

They should, anyway.

Do you remember what I wrote to you during the Summer? That letter that was filled with so much uncertainty and want at the same time? What if I told you I may have jinxed myself when I wrote it? What if I told you it really was the summer heat playing with me?

What if I told you I can’t erase the first two words before those three words you’ve always wanted to hear from me?

You’re looking at me right now with those eyes I thought I fell in love with not long ago. Your hands are no longer holding the pieces of my heart I thought you did not long ago. Your smile no longer warms me the same way it did not long ago.

I really did hope that you’d be the one to stand at the other end of the door when fall came around, but I guess things don’t always go the way we want it to. Another hand had reached out to hold my own; I forgot what holding yours felt like from that moment on. It caught me off guard too, but I can’t go back to that September night no matter how much I want to.

You’re delightful. Your photographs are still very pretty and I’m still very much in awe with the things you do, but perhaps my mind confused friendly adoration with love. Perhaps I just needed a figure I could lean on for a while. Perhaps we were never meant to go beyond the realm of friends.

Perhaps they did.

I tried convincing myself that this was not what was happening to me, that I was sure I was so close to being in love with you, but that was it — we were only ever close to being in love. I may have liked you, but I don’t think I was ever truly in love with you, and I can’t really do anything about it anymore.

Once again, you’re very delightful, you really are. You’re probably just not made for me, that’s all.

I hope we can stay as friends, though, because I don’t think I could stand it if I were to lose you completely. We have similar hobbies, don’t we? We’ve always been very understanding of each other as well. Would this be a little too much to ask for? I hope not.

I hope you continue to take care of yourself well, but please don’t say you love me, I’m not going to say it back. I should’ve known I’d bring you heartbreak — almost lovers always do.

— 20:10, 16th October 2021.

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