‘See ya…sad eyes’

Here I go dissecting what happened but that is my fate and I am in love with it absolutely. So, here, I go guessing, speculating, deducing to an extent that can hurt people and most of it you. But undeniably and ignoring the risk of hurting you if you may be reading this (fat chance), there was a kind of sorrow; here I go about you, in your eyes and which expressed itself more boldly and threatened to break its eye-prison-cell at the squeeze of a hand, your hand. Yes, at a reassuring, steady, empathizing, a mere squeeze of your hand dictated by feelings unknown, unintended, instinctively but acceptably and undoubtedly mine. In spite of your eyes, you talked and laughed and it was as normal as you intended it to look…but if only I could hear it from your mouth…no you could not say it…not the first time we met…I know…

Now, getting over an interaction with you and letting a reluctant air or normalcy to prevail would be letting myself to take to your ways, so I’ll choose to desist from that temptation to be your alike, rather I will keep your memory fresh and wait till we meet again and next time, though it seems a long shot (but then every impossibility ceases to be one not till we reach the very verge of razing its mirage), I will ask for answers from your eyes and not just try to read them with my own…whatever momentary joy may belie their state. See ya…sad eyes. I leave it to life to bring me about you or you about me…what’s the difference anyway?