Let you go

She was in the room. I didn't know. I had forgotten the face, the long raven hair draping both ears, and the gravity knitted between her brows.

Then, she strolled past, right in front. I was taken back by the face, somehow distanced, yet familiar. Now, where have I seen that before? I was dumbfounded, my foolish grin flashing. She was indifferent, yet stood there as if for eternity, as if hesitating for something.

Have you forgotten?

It all came back to me: how we became acquainted, those brief but breath-taking exchanges. You feel it, don't you? But I wasn't in the right frame of mind and couldn't say I was sorry. I had to let you go then. It was the best I could do and all for your own good.

Did you feel disheartened? And is it all too late? Now, I am being silly.

I wish I had done something then. I really do. At all events, we could have a closer relationship, not just hi-bye course mates that we are.

The class ended. I waited. She did not move. What was she waiting for? What was I waiting for?

The crowd thickened. Students swamping out, zip-zapping across my sight of her.

I had to go. I had to. Let you go.