You act like
this is normal.
Like the way you look at me
doesn't change something
inside my chest.
Like the way you say my name
doesn't stay
long after the moment ends.
But it does.
More than you realize.
Because you don't see
what I see.
You don't feel
what I feel.
You don't know
how dangerous it is
to stand that close
and pretend
nothing is happening.
Because something is.
Every time.
And I notice
everything.
The pauses.
The almost-smiles.
The way you hesitate
before leaving.
It's not accidental.
And neither is this.
Whatever this is—
it's growing.
Quietly.
Deeply.
Unavoidably.
And I don't want to stop it.
I don't want to pretend
this is just another moment
that will pass.
Because it won't.
Not for me.
You've already become
something I think about
without trying.
Something I feel
without permission.
And maybe—
just maybe—
you feel it too.
You just haven't said it yet.
That's okay.
I'm patient.
But don't take too long—
because the way
I'm starting to love you…
it's not something
you ignore forever.