CONVERSATION MEANT BUT NOT SAID
Remembered after. Connections dotted when the mind cleared and the lines were allowed to add up. Brain fugue from empty time. Sitting in a lonely chair. Wondering if you’re screwed, waiting for the next person to come in. Doctors noticing your book, your doodlings, not meeting eyes.
Sorry you didn’t say it when you should have. When he first came in, and asked. Writing it here to remember, for next time. What you said was similar, but glazed-over: you did not drink the moment. You scooted over it in your quest for perfected hours (paid). Ignored man for money; the pursuit of it.
Ugly. Ugly. But the words you meant, at least–
“I didn’t know right away, R., no. But there was something that I noticed, something different. ‘This is a girl,’ I said to myself, ‘unlike any other I have ever met.’ And yet I felt that I knew her. And the more that I came to know her, the more I realised that I did, and yet I was surprised, and her difference never changed. She is not and was not, ever, as other girls. She fit.
“She did not evaporate, as per past delusions.
“If I asked why you asked, would you tell me that you’ve found your own? I have before ignored those talks in odd ways– but if that’s why you asked, I want to know. Tell me about the girl, man to man.”