It was like any other conversation. Any other day.
Drinks. Food. Friends.
And then I said your name.
I liked the way your name felt safe in my mouth.
Shaping my voice around you – sharing you.
I wasn’t expecting it.
But he knew you.
He knew you.
He spoke of you with such appreciation.
And for that brief moment, you were with me.
Sitting beside me with the corners of your bright eyes crinkling and your warm heart shying from the praise.
I got to say your name.
And with it, you became real again.
Until the conversation passed.
And you evaporated.
He could not have known I wanted him to keep speaking of you. So you could have stayed with me a little while longer. In the middle of the restaurant.
But you were there. Briefly. With me.
You were there.
I got to say your name.
