When the time comes

I’m still looking for you.

Some days I imagine meeting you in one of my train rides. A reflection in the window, eyes locking and time standing still. But I was never good at starting conversations, and for some unknown reason, most people find me quite difficult to approach, so I give up the idea entirely.

Loud music and heavy drinking in overcrowded places were never my kind of fun, so, although I have entertained the idea of meeting you in a club, I know it would probably never happen.

I used to think I would meet you in a coffee shop, in a rainy day.

There’s something about the rain and the smell of freshly brewed coffee that I’ve always found romantic.

Because of my habit of getting everywhere ridiculously early, I would be waiting for a friend and you would enter exactly when I start to become impatient at their tardiness. Your hair wet, because men never cared for umbrellas anyway, but a childish smile in your face. And when your eyes scan the room, probably to find someone who’s been waiting for you, like I have been for my friend, our eyes lock and your smile slowly disappears. Time stands still once again. That’s when I realize the awkwardness of the situation and turn my eyes away from yours, only to find that, when the courage to look at you again resurfaces, you’re walking to the counter with a smile even more childish than the one you had when I first laid eyes on you – I’ve always been weak to honest childish smiles, somehow. That’s when my friend finally enters and the spell is broken. The next thing I know you’re already out the door and another chance has flown by.

If I allow myself to be honest, I look for you everywhere. And, maybe, the sadness they say is always lurking in my eyes has it’s origin in the fact that, till this day, I have yet to find you.

Even so, take your time. Let your eyes search for my mine, as mine have been searching for yours. And when that time comes, I’ll be here waiting.

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