The flicker in his eyes when he looks at me as I tell my story. The movement of his lips as he speaks, saying I’m sorry. The flatter inside my chest as I ask, I’m sorry? The curve of his mouth as he recognizes this voice, this voice, my voice. Time ticked, time tocked. The sound of the clock, stuck. We, both, you. And I. Trapped in our own world, our universe. Now I understand. Meaning surfaces in the glimmer of your look, reflecting mine, so divine. You’re far. So far. Yet, you’re here. Sitting in front of me. Holding your tumbler. Talking to her. To her. You’re the furthest thing I wanted to reach. Wanted. To reach. Yes. But here I am wondering. Merely wondering. Wondering if you would ever be mine. Mine. And if I could ever be yours. Yes. Yours. So here we are, I see you, but you don’t see me. You’re looking at me, yet you seem so far away. Leaving me wondering if, one day, we can be together. Like this. Together. For real. Yes. For real.