It'sGreg
go ahead, walk away
We’re walking along and it’s nice, sunny for the first time all week, and it’s so innocent, the way you say you think we need to spend some time apart. It’s so normal, just like any ordinary thing to say, like “Nice weather today,” or “I think we should stop for lunch soon.” You just say it like it’s nothing, no big deal, that we should spend some time apart, and I don’t even notice for a minute. I just walk along with you, like we’re going to have a regular conversation, and maybe I even nod my head. Then you stop walking, and I stop walking, and we’re fighting. Or you’re fighting with me, and I’m standing there, telling myself I must look dumb with my mouth open like that, while you tell me about how I don’t and I can’t and I never and you are tired. But you don’t look tired. Your eyes glitter and your face is flushed and you know what I’m thinking? I’m thinking you’re beautiful and I should say it but I don’t and you ask me, “Don’t you have anything to say?” And I just say “Well.” You push your hair away from your face and look at me that way you do, but it’s different, harder, it’s not like that way you look at me at all. And then your face is tired and you say “Fine,” and you turn and I don’t stop you. I should stop you but I don’t. I let you go. I watch you walk away, noticing how fast you move, and I just stand here, watching you. If I started right now I could catch you. I should catch you but I don’t. I just stand here, and the things I could’ve said start coming to me, and they will come to me for hours, I know. Because it’s not like you’re perfect either. You’re not. And I will think of all the ways I could’ve told you that you’re not perfect, and I will think them for the rest of the day. Because anything is better than thinking about how I should’ve just said that you are beautiful when I had the chance.
Blog photograph copyrighted to the photographer and used with permission by utata.org. All photographs used on utata.org are stored on flickr.com and are obtained via the flickr API. Text is copyrighted to the author, jamelah and is used with permission by utata.org. Please see Show and Share Your Work
