If You Could See My Thoughts, You Would See Your Face

“If you could see my thoughts, you would see our faces.”
 — Frank Ocean, Ivy, Blonde, 2016.

If you could step into my mind, quietly, in the middle of the night, when the world has gone still.

I think you would be surprised.

You would see your face.

Not just from polaroids that I still keep.
Not just the way you looked when you laughed mid-sentence
or when you felt awkward.
Or, the way your eyes lit up when you were passionate about something.
Or, how beautiful you looked at the beach, staring at the sunset.
But… everywhere.
Scattered between unfinished thoughts
and things I never got to say.

I still think about the memories we never got the chance to make.
The trips we never got to take.
The songs we never got to share in a car with the windows down, pretending like the world was ours and time didn’t exist.

You’re the ghost that lives in my almosts.
And I believe in ghosts, because otherwise, it means you’re really gone.

And I know that life moves forward.
That people grow out of each other, even when the feelings don’t.
That timing can be cruel.
But still, part of me holds on to the version of us that never happened,
the one that only exists in quiet daydreams and late night thoughts.

If you could see my thoughts, you would see your face.
Someone I’ll always carry with me.

Even if I never get to say that out loud.