The Nervous Anxiety Of Embracing A New Love

I show up at your concert.
I’m embarrassed to be here.
Because I’m only here to see you.
Because I’m only vaguely invited.
Because my intentions must be so transparent.
I have a crush on you.

You smile at me from the stage.
The music starts, and I vanish into the crowd,
watching you sing, and synthesize, and mesmerize.
When the show is over —
You talk to your friends
And I ghost around making small talk,
nervously wondering? Was that smile even to me?
What am I even doing here?
To think a girl as powerful as you would want me?
Like telepathy, you brush my hand:
“I’ll be back in a moment.”

About ten minutes later —
You are walking towards me again.
And this time we both say nothing,
and there is an anxious pause.

What now?
Silence.
Still silence.
A smile breaks like the sun breaks.
You move closer.

As gentle as rain you place
your head on my shoulder.
Darting brightly your eyes up at me.
It feels so natural,
like we have been dating for years.
And I wrap my arm around you;
And our smiles grow louder
And, together, we leave.