There’s something about you. There’s something about you I’m going to hold out hope for. Even though there were no promises made, no definitive clues you uttered to keep me waiting, nothing concrete you’ve done to make me believe I truly have a fighting chance.
This is of my own accord.
Maybe it’s the way that you can get me excited for just about anything. Even if I have no idea what you’re talking about as the words tumble out of your mouth at lightning speed, glued together with bold intelligence. Your rambling makes me smile and want to hear more.
Maybe it’s the way that you ooze exuberance and it happily intoxicates the people around you. It’s no surprise you have so many adoring fans.
Or maybe it’s the smaller shit.
Like the way you took a few moments to stop work to slowly curve the ends of your mouth into a smile as you walked past me. Possibly the way you looked at me when I began to feel more comfortable, eager to hear me talk more as I crept out of my shell while we laughed and talked about superheroes. It might be the way you called me right back after you missed my call to say goodnight because I didn’t see you before I left, to which you responded with a pleasant good night and “I hope to see you tomorrow.” It could be the way you laughed in surprise at my anxious pacing before I shakily handed you a letter with my handwriting that I wrote and re-wrote for you.
I’m going to hold out hope — a hell of a lot of hope.