I smile when I see your words,
I hear your voice in every syllable.
Spoken so softy I have to lean in closer.
We've never had much silence, the conversation always full.

What will it be like?
To hear your words in person,
To see the words leaving your lips
Like they were uttered in cursive.

If I stand too close,
Will you stay?
Or will I see you blush,
And nervously shy away?

You're a gentleman.
You take things slow, I understand.
But I wouldn't mind if while we are walking,
You would silently take my hand.

You make me nervous too
But I wouldn't pull away.
I know I might not show it,
But I really wish you'd stay.

I wonder if you think of me,
As I often do.
I often wonder if you smile quietly to yourself
Like me, when my thoughts quietly drift to you.

So even if we only have three weeks,
And though we haven't officially met,
And we're both just pixilated people with no commitment.
I miss you yet.