At this point in time, I had probably seen you a million times in a million different ways. Days can go by that are utterly unspectacular, and then you have a day like today.
I don’t believe in Hollywood’s version of the first time you lay eyes on someone you think will be important to you. The slow motion, the perfect lighting just never feels real.
But today had to be the day of all days. You were there, not even looking at me, but the stars aligned, paths crossed, and in that moment, when I looked at you, I saw you. And I’d never been sadder than in that very moment, to know and understand just how temporary everything is, and to know that our time together was coming to an end.
Maybe I’ll see you again someday, but somehow I doubt it. The only thing I need to take away is that in that one, brief, passing moment,
tagged as: personal. writing.