It has been years from our first meeting and greeting.
It was awkward and weird and dull.
We talk one word each and thats it.
Time passes by.
We’re getting better.
We talked, we laughed, we shared jokes and stories. You tell yours and I tell mine. Although sarcasm always be our first language but none of is really cares. We shared our problems and those encouraging words help both of us to get through the hardship and to stand tall.
Time passes more.
We become closer. Closer than before. Less talking and more sharing. You tell yours and I tell mine. We shared our stories but still less talking. Its like we both know what to talk and what to tell but we keep it to ourselves because we hope the other party will ask and lengthen the talk.
But in the end.
The story is not about we. Its totally not our story. But instead. Its my story. And its about me. Me having a person like you inside my life and hoping for more. Me hoping for a relationship more than friend. Me, that hopes for more. And you. Who do not know anything at all. And you. Who have no clue at all.
Little did I know. Deep down.
I’m still hoping for this story to be ours. With the word ‘we’.