Stood over, watching and nervous

You hear the voices trickling through the door. Close your Facebook page, check your hair, get out of your seat and walk out of the office. They are sat there; are they so much different to when you saw them last? Thinner? Fatter? A glow in their eye? You say hello and they say hello and the ice is broken and already floating away.

You are stood over, watching and nervous. Should they have gotten up, to hug you, or something like? You smile and mean it, but you wonder if they mean their smile this time. So many times, so many different meanings for the direct eye contact, the vapour of affection, the brushing of hands against hands in the shadows, whilst the music slowly left the room and left your thoughts.

The smell of cigarette smoke outside, and people swiftly pacing back and forth, yearning for one final late night drink.

Is there any reason to be nervous, you ask yourself.
They seem to friendly, so glad to see me.
They came in, to see me.
I am here, and they are glad I am here.
I am stood over them, and they look comfortable with me from this angle.

How long has it been since we first.. you know.. whatever?
Two years?
Who's counting?
Who cares?
The past is a distant shore to which we can never return, even if our mind attempts to drag us through the stratosphere to get back there for good.

You remember the darkness of the front room that first night they drove you home. You didn't neeed to make eye contact in that light. The words did all the work.
If only it was always like that; a lot more would get done.

A lot more progress would be made.

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