2017-09-02 - 9:54 a.m.
I've never asked for any of this. When I first saw you in the crowd, I should've looked away. I should've pretended you weren't there.
Then again, fate works in mysterious ways. As cliche as it sounds, it always does. You noticed me too and gave me your first smile.
After that, came the first talk and the next meeting. Then more talks and meetings after that. It doesn't matter that we live far away and don't get to see each other every day.
I thought I'd kept it safely locked deep inside. I thought I'd always known what to do. Then again, the scary things started to occur.
The door to my isolated castle started opening, completely against my will. It stayed open, waiting to let you in. You started showing me your past mental scars. Are you waiting for my invitation?
The crowd is anticipating, waiting for our next plots to unravel. Of course, all sensible audience want a happy ending. That ever after and all that jazz.
Will this be a shorter or longer kind of love story? Right now, we're still at the same pause, unsure where to go. Is there even love involved?
I hope there's still another setting, with you and me in the crowd. Some of those familiar faces eye us silently, probably hoping for the best possible outcome.
"Go for it," their quiet voices whisper in my ear, chanting for support. "Give it a try. Perhaps he feels the same way too."
Yet you and I are still right where we are, standing silently - and shyly - on the sidelines. Exchanging smiles as usual and with that twinkle in your dark brown eyes.
We're like two reluctant little kids in the playground, unsure what to say and do. Silence has offered us the comfort to hide from more heartbreak.
What can we possibly offer to each other? Some other voices from the crowd harshly remind me that we may never have that future together.
I wish I could read your mind, but would I be ready with what I might find? Would that break away the frail bond that has slowly formed?
Of all the people in the world, why does it have to be you? Honestly, I wish it weren't.
But it is you...and I don't know what to do.
R.
(Jakarta, 31/8/2017 @Caribou Coffee, Thamrin, Jakarta, 9:00 pm - written as a weekly writing challenge for "Jakarta Couchsurfing Writers' Club. The topic: "Mass/Crowd/Mob.")
