Without me

It’s been strange seeing you again, to actually see you, as if it’s for the very first time.
It seems the air around you have gotten softer, your smile is still meek as ever however doesn’t feel like you’re hiding something. You’re actually smiling, I was so surprised.
Your eyes don’t wander life before, they aren’t looking far off, searching for answers we aren’t supposed to know. They aren’t looking far away in the past in the depths of a pitcher you wouldn’t dare anyone else to peak. Nor in a future, so uncertain even you, as intelligent as you are, could even begin to deduce.
You’re here, you’re now, your eyes look at me, at the me that is now and they are beautiful.
You were so transparent, I sometimes would lose you even when you were here, I hated that, I looked for you so hard and yet I couldn’t find you. I hate that I used to blame you.
But you’re here, your presence it’s real even your shadow has gotten darker.
You’re happy, so happy that you probably were afraid, but I don’t think you are anymore. I think for the first time in forever, your eyes look forward to what comes next, wherever you are going, whatever you are doing, you’re 'simply here and now.
You are real now, A real human being.
wonder how it happened, did one day washing your face, you looked at the mirror closely, at yourself for the first time.
Not the one you thought you are, not the one you thought they think you are, not the person you thought you’d rather be.
But the person before you, the one who was real.
I wonder, did you tear up? Did it overwhelm you? You didn’t have the words to put it in maybe you still don’t.

I am happy for you. I don’t want you to see, I can’t let you, I’ll hide behind here so that you don’t see me. I don’t know why am I like this or why I do this, even though nothing will make me more glad than for you to know how happy I am for you.

The bridge between our two cities, with its long-winded cable suspensions, graced every evening by the first gush of northern winds, our walks would be enamored with whistles of metallic melancholy.
Now, I hope they sing, even if, it isn’t with me.