I saw you again last night. I was scouring narrow hallways, bumping into strangers, looking for something or someone I cannot quite remember. Then your eyes met mine. And the usual, the expected happened. You just passed by, not acknowledging that I was once a part of something in your life albeit unwanted and unimportant. But then, as I tried to look away, I felt a touch on my shoulder. Something I never saw coming. It was you making contact and talking to me like we were never strangers. And that was the moment I knew I never wanted to end. Your touch was firm, seemingly assuring me that there’s nothing to be afraid of, that what I can visualize only in my daydreams was finally happening, that it was the beginning of something beautiful. We spoke, and we laughed, and if it could have lasted a little longer, we might have loved. And then I woke up. I was again back to the reality where you never cared, not even the slightest bit, where you have long been in love with somebody else, where you would continue to be a sight I can never hold. I thought I was already over liking you. But after all this time, I guess I’m still into you.