"You have the most expressive eyes," I whispered.
Sigh. I wished you heard it.

I still don't know...
Is it the way your eyes outshine the stars
    whenever you gladly walk me through
    on how your team won a game or two
Or is it the way you lay your soul naked
     to me every time you play a song
     whilst listening, to you I'll doze off so long
That I loved more about you.

I thought I'll never know...
If with the same lens I used to capture you,
     we clicked for a snap second once or twice;
     fragile as we are, have we developed lies?
If the stares during the exchange of wits,
     bear no meaning like a card discarded
     or 1/6 chance of 4 when a thrown dice landed
Will a twisted meaning seem right and wrong at the same time?

"You have the most expressive eyes," you mumbled.

"I love you too."

I cried.

Almost.
Almost means it will happen.

Like,
Almost cried
Almost forgot
Almost ready
Almost here
Almost done

Almost.
Almost can also mean it never happened.

Like,
Almost in love
Almost

I realize now
as I read your words dancing with the light of the screen,


                        I don't love you.


I wanted to be in love.
People seemed happy
when they are in love.

I wanted to be happy.
And being in love seemed
to take all the loneliness away.

It was then I remembered
the feeling buried with
forgotten memories.


                            I liked you.


And then I wanted to love you,
to love every inch
and every detail about you.



                            "I love you."

        

But I wasn't happy.
I wanted to be happy.
I thought if I loved you I would be happy.



                          "I loved you."
      


                                               I wasn't happy.
                                            I didn't love you.
                I was merely caught up with the
                                    idea of being in love,
                           of  being in love with you.