I Still Do.

Do I still think of you?

Is that even a question?

As much as I don't want to,

Of course I still do.

Seconds are days,

Memories are movie scenes;

Replaying over and over in my head,

No matter what I say or do.

I will never forget that night,

Trust me, I actively try to;

When our eyes met, and our paths crossed,

From across the room.

I had never had that,

That weak in the knees moment;

Speechless, once in a lifetime moment,

Between a boy and me.

And then it happened,

Just like that, in a blink of a moment;

As if only a dream,

A pipe dream at that.

My eyes met yours,

Or maybe yours met mine,

I am still not sure who looked at who,

Do you wonder that? Because I still do.

Those crystal blue eyes,

With a tent of ivory green;

Like a mix of oceans and spring,

My two favorite things.

If only I knew right there and then,

What meeting you would do;

Perhaps I would have kept looking,

And not kept my gaze on you.

I could have suppressed those butterflies,

Refused to let my knees fall weak,

If I only I had known what I know now,

I would have not looked across the room.

How were I to know what you'd become?

My calm and my craze,

My stimulation, my validation;

The solid foundation I was looking for.

I hate you for coming up to me,

I wish you had stayed across the room;

Wasn't that look good enough?

I wish you hadn't chosen to meet me.

Because maybe if we stayed afar,

Our eyes only meeting from across the room;

We would be okay right now,

We would not feel this way.

I thought that weak-at-the-knees moment,

That butterfly-in-my-stomach effect;

That love-at-first-sight feeling,

Was supposed to grow to a forever.

Now it is hard to keep from crying,

When I think about that night;

When my whole world turned inside out,

Or upside down;

Whatever we want to call it,

Meeting you just felt right.

I just don't understand it,

No matter how hard I try;

How possibly could one single look,

From across the room,

Lead to something so quickly,

Such as hello, then goodbye.

I don't want even want to write this,

The memories surfacing back up;

But somehow writing this out,

Just might be the closer I need.

And so one last question to you:

If you went back to that night,

When you looked at me from across the room;

Would you want to do it all over again?

Because I still do.