Lost Art of Conversation (Mamihlapinatpai)

A calm would wash over me, should our eyes connect and I not feel as if I have become the oblivion that you have chosen to stare into…
Many questions that could be asked of you, were it not for the tremendous weight of the thoughts standing firmly on my mind that gently seal my lips…
Lips that do not move, so you can’t read them… but I am still here… sitting still… a patient of my patience appearing to stare blankly, hoping that you at some point will see tomorrow today and stop waiting around to see if I will stop waiting around…
…and
I listen to the sound of tears hydrating my skin momentarily before falling to the floor with the softest pat that echoes across the room… the reality that I have been forgotten begins to take root…
…If only I were nothing but a shadow I would be able bear the moments during the day where you knew I was there looking back at you, knowing that come the night I could easily camouflage into the darkness and observe you to see if you’d truly miss me if I were gone… I could bring myself within inches of your skin to touch you…
…but
…I would know the distance of my fingertips to your heart could only be traveled should the words I feel be heard and yet the uncertainty of the expression ever being returned keeps them locked away… not because they’ve never been said but because they’ve never been listened to…
[I Love You]
My soul screams… and my eyes cry… and I stay… Your eye’s see my pain knowing that inside you is not where I am… I am outside… and there I will remain… Without a single word, we both know that tomorrow… We will look upon our last night together… Never to speak again.