Truth and Dared

I ran into you today. Saw you in that crowded café. I recognized the way you darted at me. Crystal clear. No smile. Full of words. I felt it to my bones. Deep, cold, yet burning with the flame of desire. Far away yet so close. I made a daring eye contact. You sensed it too. I'm sure you felt my silent shout. The irony was with the clarity of the inner senses, yet the confusion of speechlessness.

I still don't comprehend why you wouldn't tell me the truth, leaving me with a meaningless imagination of what if. Was I that far off from feeling something in both of us? Were we so drifted off the shore of possibilities?

Sometimes you need to hear it in bold so you can get closure. I needed closure. Just like you once told me, "Ask me anything. Be bold!" Perhaps I wanted to hear something heartfelt and truthful, even if it cut both ways, even platitudes like, I stopped loving you, so I know there was a feeling, an exchange of desire, and what I felt when we kissed and held hands was true, however idealistic. Still, there was a glimpse of passion in that short-lived love.

Sometimes, no matter how cold the ocean water is, you still want to feel the piercing chill on you to realize if you're ready to dive in. And that's okay too. I preferred the cold truth and being dared, not the burning lies.