Breathe, I tell myself. Just breathe.

And that's what I did, while you stood there, next to me, looking at me with those ocean eyes. Waiting for me to say something, probably. Were you?

It started when you sat too close to me, that unquenched nervousness. I was conscious of you, the warmth that radiated from you, your long body that you tried to fold to reduce its surface area but that really just ended up occupying more space. Your broad shoulders that gave me deja vu. Where have I seen you before, I thought. I remember but then I don't.

I inhale, then exhale.

Words are in my throat, but I can't get them out. I open my mouth to speak, but I close it without uttering anything. I wonder why I'm unable to talk to you. There was this feeling that was there, it made me uncomfortable, though not necessarily in a bad way. Just uncomfortable. Like being in a strange country and not knowing the native language.

You raise your hand to speak, and I frown. You turn around and look at me, and I think,

Your eyes are gorgeous.

One, two, three, the number of breaths I take. Until I forget, when you and I are alone together. I cannot raise my eyes to look at you. I say something frivolous, something I don't remember. I sound funny, my words are tripping over each other, I'm not breathing.

You say something, you lean in, and all of a sudden, I'm running, running far from you. That was how fast the moment lasted. Fast like you.

It was all because I forgot to breathe.

hey, I say. hi, I say again. but this time, you don't acknowledge me, don't look at me, don't talk to me. But it doesn't matter, because at the end of the day,

all I wanted was to breathe.