Hopeless Romantic

by Sakura
(USA)

You sit
Separated from me by a chair, a backpack, and a year’s worth of unspoken words
You’re older: you have a lot to think about, I’m sure
Leaving for college, being set free at last (I’m jealous)
It’s time I let you go, I know (but I’ll wait a bit longer)

You sit
Immersed in some task
And I should be minding my own tasks but I’m overwhelmed with the present:
You’re leaving in a few days
Grown up (spirited away) and I know you’re off to great things
You’ll be fantastic, I know, and it’s time I let you go

We sit
(I guess I can call us a we, for now)
Separated by oxygen, hydrogen, and two years of age
I hear your voice and shrink into myself (I’m a coward)
This could be the last time I’m this close to you, and yet I say silent

We sit
And this is all getting so redundant, isn’t it?
I’m a cliche, aren’t I: blinded by crush and smiling, melancholy
A slow shiver down my spine, and I know that if you saw this you would think me a stalker hopeless romantic
But for this short moment
It’s you, and it’s me, and we’re near
And that’s all I can ask