I feel like he doesn't see me, though he once did. I'm sure of it.
Did you forget how connected we were before you left? The way we'd laugh before knowing the joke only to find out that it was the same one? We both knew that the sky held more secrets than people knew and that behind the laughter and ease, there were details we could see but were not allowed to know. How soon you've forgotten the care we so naturally took to make sure the other wasn't sad. Spring was when we were talking, pushing each other playfully. Have you already forgotten that we ran to each other because we knew we'd understand?
And now you don't see me. You've forgotten it all and have gotten caught up in a momentary connection that even you knew couldn't be sustained. And now you're searching for someone to know you in the depth of darkness. But you see, you have to want to know the other's darkness too, not just want them to know yours. If only one is searching, you may bump into the other, but she'll have her back turned, or her profile to you. Look for the one who's willing to see you in all the convoluted, chaotic ways that you are---the one who wants you to turn around and to look into your eyes and speak mutely in order to breathe and feel that darkness.
