fiction, only stranger

you turned your head this way and gave me what i assumed to be a meaningful look. i can only assume because i wasn't looking at you. that took effort. it frustrates me somewhat that this is still going on inside me, the battle between feelings and logical reasoning. i was surprised to find myself like this; it's almost tempting to launch into yet another thread-by-thread study as to how things are all good. paint a coat of white over it and start anew. let bygones be bygones.

i ponder and find the sentiments amusing. touching upon them makes me smile at the blurred beauty of the affair, the unspoken understanding, and especially at this strange familiarity that tugs at us in spite of my fabricated aloofness, your cool ignorance. perhaps it had all been imagined--in my attempts to self-preserve i've persuaded myself to believe so. but in moments like this, when you make the conscious decision in a split second to turn and look at me like that--with words...i don't know.