She Screams In Silence

I was having dinner with my wife.
We we're around a table in a quiet and dark room.
It was cozy and painted in red and green.
The table had a stripped tablecloth on it.

(In some ways, it looked like the previous apparment on which we lived for five years.)

Somehow I knew that we were expecting you.

Suddenly, someone put the key in the door lock, made it spin and then opened the doorway.
It was you. You dressed exactly as the last time I saw you.

Somehow, you looked lighter than that last time.

You looked at us and walked to the table.
You said Hi and smiled to us.

Somehow you looked shy and insecure.

For a moment, we saw each other, face to face.
I wanted to be nice, but I was unable to smile.

I continued talking to my wife, but feeling terribly guilt.

You sat beside me in the table and said something nice about a picture of a cat that was hanging on the wall.

You said something like Cats are awesome.

I sensed you weren't comfortable at all.
All you wanted to do was to be nice with us.

It seemed that you were about to live with us.

In a way, it really excited me.
The chances to get along with you were so exciting.
But it also scared me.

I was afraid to falling in love with you.

At the time I had these thoughts, I secretly saw you.

You looked so fragile and pretty. 

Yesterday, I was thinking all day long to give you a call and say Hi.
I didn't. I'm not sure if I will.