You Tried Again

You tried again to connect to me. You invited me out and from the moment you did, we both knew it was a mistake. From the moment the invitation left your lips your eyes betrayed your true feelings, your true mistake. If there was ever a time you wished you could reach out, grab those words back, and cram them into your mouth, this would be it. Take them back if you could, I am so sure you would, because you should. Was it because of my instant dismay? How badly did it roll across my face? Your invitation deflated me. I was getting comfortable with the Let’s Not Push This. Your invitation disappointed me. No was on my lips but I didn’t want to be the one to offend. Lamely, I mumbled something about checking my schedule. I looked at my feet and the clouds, anywhere and everywhere save for the space between us. You have always said you are the smarter of the two of us. Imagine my relief when you brilliantly thought of a way to retract your invite. You were skillful, yet transparent. I see how it is and I want it that way.