Waving Through A Window

Waving Through A Window                                                                                             

__________________________

Staring out of the window.

Listening to an old playlist that you made.

Full of the songs we had played.

I lose a little bit more of my soul. 

I watched you.

Teaching someone how to juggle a ball.

Something small.

But I couldn’t look away.

I listened to you.

Playing a song through the phone.

Some of which I could recognize.

Only because I had heard you play it before.

I noticed you.

Hesitating to leave the theatre after saturday.

For you, it’s like home.

Something you don’t want to move on from.

I looked out the window.

Considering all of my doubts.
But then you start talking about a song that you put on.

And I forget all about it.

I still have my doubts.

About what you might truly be thinking.

I know I say that a lot. 

But I’m just trying to prove what is true.

To myself.

And to you.

Sitting in the theatre today.

I realized how much I didn’t want to go to the band room.

Thought about just staying in there.

Never having to leave.

It was almost perfect.

Clair was working on her FCCLA post.

You were writing in her yearbook.

I sat there fumbling with the “stick.”

It was nice.

Last night.

You said that there were “certain things” you found hard to believe.

Things that I’ve said.

Or done.

I can take a guess as to what one of those things was.

I answered that a long time ago.

I said it was “because I cared.”

But there’s always more to a story than that.

So I’m staring through a window.

Watching all the people inside.

It’s raining harder.

Now that my shoes are filled with water.

I turn away from the window.

Leaning against the wall.

Siting on the ground.

And curl into a ball.

Not sure whether its the rain.

That’s running down the side of my face.

Or the tears.

I had been trying to contain.

I felt so in control

Until I realized I was alone.

Wondering if you’d listen.

And wondering if you’d care.

I sat there alone.

Soaked from the rain.

Pouring out my heart.

Just for someone else to drink.

So I stopped waving through the window.

And didn’t notice you standing there.

Somehow caring enough.

To finally wave back at me.

But since I had turned my back.

I left you in the past.

Forgetting who you are.

And what you meant to me.

Because now my heart is breaking.

There isn’t much of it left.

Struggling to hold on.

To the future on our right.

We both know the right path.

We could locate the door.

But I’m still outside.

And you’re still indoors.

Refusing to wave at each other through this window.

You don’t have to come outside.

And I don’t have to step inside.

But if you’ll meet me at the door.

Maybe then we would be okay.

Coincidences like songs appearing into people.

Thoughts turning into words.

Daydreams turning into reality.

You were right.

They happened on their own.

As much as I hate to admit it.

I know how annoying it can be.

To say things and never complete the thought.

I do that on purpose now.

Because only you seem to notice.

Even if its not important.

You still want to know what I said.

It’s nice remembering that.

Even if it frustrates you.

I promise it wasn’t anything important.

Because if it were then I would have still remembered it.

And I have nothing in my mind.

I’m not going to lie.

I was pretty upset.

Not because you wrote something upsetting.
But because you felt you couldn’t tell me about it.

That hurt more than the rest of it.

Which I can’t blame you for.

I’m better at speaking my mind than you are.

I see that now.

I still wish to know what you’re thinking.

Not just for answers.

But because it’s you.

And I want to know about you.

If you’ll allow me to.

I’ll meet you at this door.

Even if it’s just one small step.

I hope I’ll see you there.