I notice you sitting alone across the cafe. You’re gingerly nursing your glass of mojito and glancing around the room before taking a sip.
Maybe you’re waiting for someone.
Maybe you’ve come with a friend. Or a lover.
Maybe you’ve come alone to drown your sorrows or some news that caused the wrinkles on your forehead.
Maybe you’re waiting to go back home to the arms of the person whose embrace has turned into comfort.
I see that ring clamped around your finger a little too tight for your comfort. I see you play with it for a while before you tucked the strand of your hair behind your ear.
I see the flicker of your eyes, your soft gaze against my curious hazel brown ones, just for a moment, and then watching them turn back to the glass in your hand.
There is something about you that I can’t quite place.
You’re stunning in a pair of casual jeans and that simple top with those flawless earrings. You are expectedly pretty.
You are beautiful in a way that doesn’t let me stop looking. You are soft. And warm.
Maybe if you wouldn’t have had that ring around your finger. Maybe I would’ve come up to you, asked about you, wondered if you’d ever consider me as someone you could love.
With first dates and your fingers brushing against mine on a winter evening.
With laughter and shared interest.
Maybe we would’ve made our own little world.
But beautiful people like you don’t fall in love with shy people like me.
Maybe we could’ve been more than just strangers.
But I promise I never would’ve been able to take my eyes off you.