Last night you came to my dreams. You said, perhaps this is the best time to start a conversation.
You had such intense eyes. Your fringe brushed against your eyelashes as you flicked your head to sweep them aside. In my head, you were beautiful. When you spoke, I heard paradise. Your voice echoed in my heart and I was stunned, possibly indefinitely, until you shook me lightly. Your touch was light, like silk. Like a sensation I’ve never felt before, as always.
And so, we talked.
You asked me how we met.
I cannot remember.
I only remember not noticing you.
You were sneaky like a shadow, swiftly disappearing whenever I turned around. You were quiet, or maybe you spoke, but I’ve never paid you any attention. We had a lot of time together as a group, and you always blended into the background. Fade to black.
And that was you. That was the you I remember remembering. I ask myself sometimes were you or were you not there? Did you or did you not go? Did we or did we not forget about you?
You were elusive at best, but maybe, I reason now, maybe that was your way of getting us to notice you.
Of catching my attention.