corner table.

to this day we could both order for each other. that is habit i suppose. you look up for a minute and i tell the waitress what you want as the words escape you momentarily. and there is symmetry and beauty in that single act. and as i order hot water in a mug. miming the word 'mug' you repeat it. and it's like we didn't miss a beat. another restaurant. another meal shared. it could be any night in seven years.

we talk without pause. always a very even exchange. both interested in what the other has to say.
it's always been this way. your eyes cast different light however. something has been released. some fire or fury.
the genuine care we have for each other is palapable and makes this. even. harder.

we both have hope. and we talk of futures and the day it will all be official and whether it will feel any different to the day before.
"i didn't want it to turn out this way"
i can only mouth "i know" and look away.

confusion over how it came to be like this. and you wish clarity for me and i truly wish it for myself too.