the first time i didn’t hesitated

“i didn’t mean to feel this— not like this. not all at once and never out loud. but there you were. a stillness in the noise, a kind of quiet that made me want to stay. i’m not the kind to speak first. i keep things in— let poems say what i can’t. but with you, it was different. no rehearsals, no fear. just you, and something soft settling into my chest like it belonged there. i don’t remember the first word we exchanged. maybe there wasn’t one. maybe it was always meant to be silence— not the awkward kind, but the kind that wraps around two people like a blanket they didn’t know they needed. we didn’t talk for the longest time, but even then— i noticed you. from the whole college, it was you. always you. the way you existed… without trying to be seen, but impossible not to notice. like art— the kind that doesn’t demand attention, but still holds it forever. and when we did start talking, it didn’t feel new. it felt remembered. like my heart had met you before, and was just waiting for my mouth to catch up. i’m not the type to talk to girls first. but with you, i didn’t hesitated. i just did. and it felt like breathing. you laugh at my dumb jokes. you listen without interrupting. you read the poems i write in the dark and never ask if they’re about you. but i think you know. you don’t speak much, but your silence is safe. your presence is whole. and your eyes— i could stay in them if they let me. sometimes i wonder if you feel it too. if the way you sit close means more than comfort. if the way you stayed means more than habit. and maybe i’m reading too much into it. maybe i’m imagining things. but i notice things. little things. like how you don’t keep strangers close, but somehow you kept me. and maybe that’s nothing. or maybe that’s everything. because when i’m with you, the silence says more than i ever could. and maybe— just maybe— i’ve been writing about you long before i ever met you. maybe i’m in love. but idk. maybe i’ve always been.”