Ten years ago. My first kiss.

Last night. I see you.

Ten years of brushing lips in passing, downing drinks in bars; never quite fulfilling whatever we’re supposed to be. I’ve never written you a love letter. But J, I’ve loved you since the day you raised your fist to the sky after our first kiss. Like kissing me for the first time in my dark kitchen was a scene out of a movie.

We’ve had our moments, of course, in the last 10 years. Drunken nights getting tangled in college. Last night. Seeing you at the funeral. The time you got in a fist fight.

I think you’ll always be a little bit of my kryptonite. The one at the tips of my fingers but never quite within reach.

Isn’t it crazy how time moves? 10 years of liking you. 10 years of missed connections. 10 years of us... in some form. You’ve always been special to me, J. And I hope I’m likewise to you.