He watched me as the time passed, seeing how I looked away when our eyes connected for too long. He tried to talk with me, but I brushed him off or just let him speak.
He saw I was uncomfortable so he let me leave, giving me personal instructions on what I could do, before telling the group the same thing.
He wanted me to know he saw me, that I wasn’t invisible or unimportant.
I was leaving and we crossed paths.
He saw my smile and knew I was hurting, so he gave me a real smile. The kind of smile that says, “I know you’re hurting and I want to take that away so badly.”
Of course, he didn’t say anything; he doesn’t know me, yet maybe he knows me better than those who are closest to me.
He knows I want to do it alone, but he also knows I don’t want to be alone. He’ll be close; he knows it and I know it.
I don’t know if I can let him in. My head spins when I think about it.
That smile has me addicted and I can’t stop thinking about the way the corners of his eyes crinkle each time. The way his eyes look into mine as if in search of what’s hurting me.
How his body leans towards me, daring me to let him bare some of the pain that is killing me inside.
His ears, pushed out a little more, like he’s just waiting for the sound of my voice to come to him.
It’s too late to decide not to fall…
...I already jumped.
Alyssa L. Boyce