you ever just run into someone and immediately, right then and there,
it’s the first five minutes of a simple conversation that turned into deep philosophical pondering about the depth of the human soul and how far we could go if we really applied ourselves daily . . . they implanted a simple idea inside of you. it wasn’t just the way that you talked to them, it was their body language and how absorbed their gestures were when they leaned in to hear you — as if being face to face wasn’t enough.
it only took five minutes.
that’s all i ever really needed from you. to know that all of my promises to myself to not fall for people, to just work on myself, to just be careful who i let into my life.
you were more than the exception, you were the death of my isolation. you withdrew my attitude towards this thing we call love. and i don’t know what to call it — call you.
a stranger that knew more about me in a simple five minutes than someone who has known me for years? it feels like we’ve met before. like we have spoken more than just five minutes but five lifetimes, just picking up where we left off. you handpicked the right flowers inside the garden of my mind and dry pressed them into secret letters, hand sealing my heart with clarity for the first time in a long time.
i felt free.
i felt understood.
i felt calm.
i felt forgiving.
you were not just a simple stranger that i held a conversation with while waiting for coffee on a gloomy wednesday morning. there was no way you were just a stranger. i held my breath because it felt like it wasn’t real. you were more than anything i could’ve asked for. and i didn’t even get your name.
coffee shop boy,
whatever your actual name is,
you are everything.