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when I received your text for the first time,
we talked about chocobos and breath of the wild.
we hoped to see each other around,
but it almost took a year to see you
meeting our eyes in the halls

friends introduced us to each other
you were the girl with the shared interest of games
we created a silly handshake too
but there was nothing more than that for a while

I’m sure we saw each other while walking,
thinking if we should exchange greetings.
in the meantime I learned you were a writer
and I was aspiring to become one too.

after a year of absent conversation,
another friend introduced us to each other again,
but we proved our prior acquaintance
with our comically missed fist bump.

then you received my text for the first time in a year
I asked what prompted you to become a writer.
and just as you wanted to write like the story that moved you to tears,

my inspiration to write was sparked by your own works of prose.

on most days it became a pattern to wave in the halls again
our interactions were spontaneous
Until one saturday we met with tea and a frappuccino,
we wrote together and talked together.

from a year of scattered hellos
to half a day of sharing our weighted thoughts,
you became the person who knew me the most

i’d love to continue writing with you;
until all of our pen cartridges are empty,
until all the coffee shops close,
or until we accidently land our first fist bump