Art by Ky Lawrence ©2024
The drag of your sand-caked feet in my slippers across the hot asphalt almost stopped me in my tracks, but we were in a hurry; we had a bus to catch. Even now the sound of it scrapes across the inside of my skull, pulling tendrils of my consciousness back to that series of moments.
Sound.
Acceptance.
Your head bent checking the time on your phone, ever reliable, you had no idea that you had unearthed something in me that didn't need to be named.
I think that's when I had accepted that I loved you.
I thought that loving you might have put you in a sour situation, much less admitting it to myself and to you, but in that moment it refused to be buried in the sand, left behind on that beach.
I saw it coming from the start, the inevitability of it a wave. Your feet in my sandals that I had brought for you, should you need them, felt so natural that it overwhelmed me.