It started because you borrowed my pen and still thought of returning it to me despite your hectic schedule.
Now, I see it in a different perspective. But at the time, I couldn’t help living in the fantasy of the possibility that could happen between you and me. I must be really emotionally starved and have been numb for too long that the simple, meaningless act could turn into a possibility for an ever after.
Maybe you just caught me off-guard on a lonely 14th day of February. But I really spent time being in a fantasy of how it would be between you and me. I find myself deliriously happy of the thought of seeing you again. It must be just my one-sided view of things, but I can see that you find seeing me awkward. Since I am the avoidant type and have no minute right to confront you about anything, I always act like we were platonic strangers. We are not exactly bosom friends but we are not supposed to be strangers, either.
Heck, you’re one busy important person. I should shrug this off. But really I was just sad because I felt disappointed.