Anything more than this is wasted, dropped on the ground, stepped over and then forgotten. Time walks on, leaving us behind, leaving us to face each other not knowing what to do next. I have seen your hesitation when you turn to face the future. I do not know what you see there, all I do know is that you do not like what you see. I wonder if you do not like that future you see because I am in it, or if you do not like it because I am not in it.
Sometimes I wonder if we know each other at all. Sometimes I look across this bare table at you and see some stranger I have never known. We sit like two people in a waiting room, who do not know or remember what it is they are waiting for.
I would ask you what troubles you, but I am not sure you know, or are even really aware of the way you look into the distance with troubled eyes. Then there is always the danger that if I do ask you what the problem is, you might tell me… and you might tell me it is me.
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