“I have to see you everyday,” you say as the cab approaches your stop.
“Why?” She asks in between a smile.
You chuckle and blush as you try to cook a reason, far from the actual one.
“I just have to see you everyday.” You say again. Your lying machinery just failed you.
“I will tell you when next I see you.” You conclude as you alight from the cab.
The walk from the junction into your street would be lonely. You unclasp the headphone that has been around your neck all day, and veil your ears with it. Playing Praiz’ cover version of Rihanna’s “Stay,” you let yourself make meaning of the lyrics.
You think about her “why” and begin to rehearse, in your head, what you’d say to her. The things you’ve always wanted to say to her. You’d love to tell her:
That you don’t mind seeing her everyday.
That she’s the only person you feel this way about.
That seeing her everyday is good for your heart.
That 365 consecutive days with her would go nowhere near boring.
That she glows your fire.
That you think she’s the ONE.
That she’s your queen.
You think it all.
Just by the door to your apartment, you think of how you’re going to go about it and sigh. You cuss yourself because you know: tomorrow will come, you will see her and you will fail to tell her, yet again.