They used to tell me that I should sometime go out. I did. But my walls came following as if I was out in the open but still hiding. Not until through my dome of silence, broken, not a noise, but your voice. "Hi there, may I?"
Lucky table I could spare, a lucky sandwich you got there stared at and offered to share. But luckier was I because you were equally shy. Or so I thought.
Not a bit of me was interesting but you asked for my name. Neither was I valiant to ask for yours but your glasses took the edges off. That damn beautiful smile was tricky. Perhaps for this one time, I could tell mine to somebody. To a stranger.
The first block of Lark and the last of it; I didn't know of oft beautiful coincidences like this. Now we walk each other home every time, name the stars at night, and bid ourselves goodbyes to sleep with smiles.
Your little sister, Casey, was adorable, and the youngest Cyle was as awesome. I never had friends to skate with, never had one this fun. I can't make decent brownies but I can watch you do it. I have never been into someone else's house and meet their parents.
I still am the one they used to call an introvert, but now at least, I've got someone to share my world with.
You told me that on that day, you shook when you said the words but that you leaped when you heard my voice.
You said you were a coward, that you once beat a turtle with your shyness, that you were lame and unconvincing, but you could die if you don't not ask my name.
Your maths and chems sure have curious accents and my poems had you questioned your senses.
I have read in novels that common interests make up good friendships but life surprised me when despite, you asked me it:
There before my dad, there before my mom, and after those dramas, you all planned, "Will you be my girlfriend?"
Out my tears with my years of insecurities and fears, dropped away gone.
You said, our books may get along, or perhaps not. But you'd love me anyway and always, you promise that.
I could remember the lucky sandwich that long long ago, how later I wished it was my hand,
There is no envying it anymore because life got you for me, a husband.
Now, mom is convinced that I look beautiful in this white dress.
As for me, I am content with you alone, until the end.