I found a new love.
Or maybe a new way of loving. Either way, it just occurred to me there is a little lane on the highway of whatever this thing is that we are doing, and in a little space past friendship, there is a place called almost, where you don’t necessarily need to explore the person sexually, although sometimes when you speak to them, your pits sweat, and you imagine them next to you, or underneath, or just very close. It is right before a romantic relationship, or all the other classifications that mean the same thing.
I was walking past, kicking pebbles and gum wrappers, and looking through the mirror when I realized that my admiration for two new people in my life doesn’t allow them to fit neatly into the compartments I created long ago. There are friends, and there are lovers, right?
Long ago, maybe. Not now.
I love them.
I am even in love with them.
But they are flowers I admire too much to pick.
I watch from the sidelines and cheer like a proud mom, and smile. And brush hands, and-nothing.