She looks nice; she looks nice she’d be an interesting person that I find her interesting.
Maybe she is an artist, or a musician, the creative type with flair that other girls simply don’t have.
Maybe she is just like me.
Maybe she is lonely too.
Maybe I have the courage to talk to her and through some measure of miracle she talks back and it’s not awkward and she likes me.
Maybe we take the bus together and the conversation flows and the journey ends too soon.
Maybe I ask to ‘see you again’ and she blushes and says ‘yes’.
Maybe it is beautiful and straight away I realize that she is what I’ve been looking for for so long
Maybe we hold hands in public and feel wrong when our fingers aren’t intertwined.
Maybe I can stand sort of shopping but only with her.
Maybe we intend to start slow but things are so damn perfect we can’t help to take it quick.
Maybe we’ll live together and each day is like a new adventure all over again and every mundane task seems so fresh and full of life.
Maybe she cooks for me and is content simply with the look on my face as a compliment.
Maybe she waits for me at home and doesn’t get mad when I don’t call.
Maybe I can look at other girls and it’s okay because she knows I love her.
Maybe I love her.
Maybe we’ll fall in love and nothing has ever felt so right.
Maybe she can hold me on the dark days, and when I feel too scared to move she can tell me that it’s all ok and I believe her.
Maybe I can do the same for her.
Maybe I am her savior and she needs me more than anything else.
Maybe she can’t live without me.
Maybe it’s perfect.
Maybe she makes me feel home and safe.
Maybe her smile is enough to make all pain go away.
Maybe she is everything… just not for me.
Maybe she is someone else’s.
Maybe she tells someone else it’s all okay.
Maybe she loves someone else and holds someone else’s hand.
Maybe I don’t have the courage to talk to her and she gets on the bus and goes away to live this other fantastic life.
Maybe she can never be mine.
Maybe I can live with that.