Strangers, but not quite.

You know that moment when everything else zooms in, and you focus your soul to just one person, one face, one voice? You stop breathing when you really don't, and you seem stuck in that moment, when really, the world is still moving, still normal. You lose a part of you that you can't point at, you just know you lost something. You drown out all the noise, leaving you deaf for a split second. You stare and let the moment swallow you whole. You snap out of it, and you know that you'll never be the same person you were ever again. You have become one with that person, and you don't even know it. 

His mere presence pushes you over the edge, and you can't find the right words to describe how he makes you feel. You are lost in translation every time his mouth opens, and you watch as he swallows, and purses his lips when speaking. You know his every move, his every gesture, his every angle. You memorize his words, retain everything in your head. You get lost in his arms, and you waiver when he comes close. You lose all sense of reasoning, all your principles suddenly misguided. You look for any doors out, but like an accidental maze, each door you stumble upon just leads to another pitchdark room, and you move your hands around, trying to reach any walls, and eventually you will find another door. No surprises. 

You hesitate for a moment, but you know that your hands are too itching to not open it, so you do. A neverending cycle that you will never get used to, because you don't want to get used to it. You don't, but you crave for the excitement, and as depressing as it might be, you can't let go of the thrill of not knowing, You have become complacent with all the drama, and you just enjoy the knowledge of somehow having a hold on that person, as unexplainable as it may be. 

You are contented with knowing you coexist, without even wanting to be in a committed and exclusive relationship. The more you stay away, the more you are pulled by an almost non-existent yet undeniable force. Your eyes meet, and once again, you dive into a chaotic pool of emotions; an undying quicksand. 

You spend sleepless nights, tossing and turning around, wondering the endless what-ifs, the occasional sudden outbursts. You know deep inside that this is the only connection you will only have with that person; nothing more, nothing less. You will always be that *something*, just because no words have yet been discovered to label your set-up, your whatever-it-really-is. It's not quite love, but it's not less than love either. It's just that awkward *something*, that could remain just that until it's no longer there, if it will ever go away. 

Until then, beautiful stranger...