lines

she's walked that fine line ever since we met... that line between real, and unreal... that line between normal and unbelievable... between lover and friend. lately she's walked around, across, and in between that line, if that were at all possible.

these lines that have been drawn in the sand, these lines that define us have been squiggly as of late. at times impossible to follow, then straight and narrow, then again wide and all encompassing, as if allowing for any and all possibilities for a redefinition of who we are, who we've become to one another.


holding hands was never new. friends held hands, didn't they? and long, heart felt, lingering hugs; nothing out of the ordinary. there too were the stray looks: mistimed, misinterpreted, lost in the slivers and cracks between seconds that pass in the unguarded moment of now, that becomes then, that ages into another unknown missed opportunity. awkward moments of silence pepper our otherwise meaningful meetings, belying what were not saying underneath all our banter. and the longing between us grows, and tension stretches to a fullness of potential we perhaps do not understand, and definitely are not prepared for.


your hand was on my leg that night, at dinner. i didn't understand at all why, but i knew i didn't mind. such was the time we spent in relative silence basking in each other's presence: warm, welcome and wonderful. to be honest, anything you might have said that night has more than likely sipped my mind as i was listening more intently to the whispers of your wandering fingers, tracing lines on my flesh, convoluted, and confusing.

as the night grew old, with morning creeping slowly at its heels, i chose to leave (and you knew i did not want to). but then, in my leaving, you took me by surprise. forsaking present company and our usual convention, you gifted me with a kiss (well met, i thought), in the heat of the moment. a goodbye kiss we've never yet shared until then. and with nary another thought, you waved me off, leaving me with more questions than answers.


the lines between us blur every time we meet, and at random they solidify. when will we meet at a blurry intersection again, i wonder. i might never know for sure. but the longing remains, and i walk along these leading lines in hopes of finding definition, for us.