Almost (The One Where I Learn)

By Bhavishya

We grow up, whether we want it or not.

I was sixteen and desperate when I wanted, but now I think I was running for a break and not the thrill of the wind. I was seventeen, lovelorn when I watched it happen, then decided to live for the moon and the dew and my rage. The girl I used to hate in high school spoke with me. She’s met someone who makes her feel what you almost made me feel. I ached with joy for her, and wished her well. You are an afterthought I do not have to hate.

I still wear my father’s shirts just to hug myself, and I still make tea the way my mother taught me. You linger under my breath in the songs that I hum. It is your gaze that has me tracing the freckles down my nose. I still catch fire on the inside when I catch their eye; and I light up like the night sky that will grant them their wishes. I don’t do it for the noise anymore, though. I see me now the way you almost did.

We grow up in pieces, don’t we? And what a wonderful puzzle the two of us made. One that was never solved, but in that we never died. Sometimes I think I will find you on the road, waiting for a bus, or at the park. This world has twisted our paths so they cross, and made it into a crown of thorns. Then we meet and then all this will have never been and then I will see these almosts for what they are.

That is when I grow some more.

By Bhavishya