Fix

I am on one side of a very awkward conversation.

I keep looking at you like you’re about to disappear.

I’m making mental notes about every single feature on your face.

Every time you look at the window, I stare.

When you look back, I look down.

When you look up, I look left.

When you look at me, I freeze.

I feel like a child, trying to figure out how badly broken my favourite toy is.

I get stuck there, sometimes, childhood.

Mine wasn’t great.

You know that.

Have I broken you beyond repair?

Can I glue you back together?

They’ll never make another you.

Can you feel the pulse of my never ending apology?

We are talking like it’s our first date.

Like we’re strangers with a mutual interest in each other.

Light conversation, simple topics.

The kind of small talk we only make when we’re bored.

Back at the start.

We have to start somewhere, I suppose.

Quite a fall from grace that was.

We both contributed.

That’s what I tell myself, so I don’t have to face it.

That the fault is mine.

You reach for my hand.

Yours are always so warm.

My body trembles with need.

I need you closer, so much closer.

But I cant force that.

I can’t take that chance fearlessly.

I have to wait a little.

You have to trust me again.