I wonder what you tell your friends about me
   if you tell your friends about me.
I wonder what it would be like to meet your parents
   to shake your fathers hand and give your mother that awkward hug.

I wonder if we would make it.
If the paradox of meeting an amazing person at a terrible time
would gouge a hole in the feelings that have kept us afloat lately.
If only, if only...

If only I had met you before
   I could have changed your mind; made you stay.
If only I had met you after
   we could have experienced youth uninterrupted

Instead we struggle.
At least, I struggle
   and I selfishly like to think that you do too.
Only because I want these feelings to be reciprocated.

What could have been.
What may still be.
I wonder.
Will it last?