that night was never planned, just a sudden yes, not one of our usual ones. church first, then a concert— simple things that somehow turned into a memory that refuses to leave quietly. before the unexpected, there was you and me, sending reels back and forth, talking the way we always do. you sent one about a dream, about wanting to stay there because it felt better than reality. you know me— you know i always want to ask what comes next, what it means. but you only said, “i’ll just do it,” and i didn’t know how something could change so fast without warning me first. at the concert, my body was heavy with exhaustion— no sleep the night before, no rest that afternoon. i wanted to lean my head on your shoulder, just for a moment, just to exist there, but i didn’t. it felt too shameless to want that much. still, i had fun. being there with you felt warm, like time slowing down just enough to make me stay. i don’t know when the hours passed, only that eventually you said you had to leave, another hangout waiting for you. we walked you to where you could ride home. everything felt normal. goodbyes, as usual. i offered a fist bump. you didn’t take it. my chest dropped— a quiet panic, the thought that something was about to go wrong. then you leaned in for a hug. i hugged you, and relief came all at once. when you pulled away, you wiped your tears. i pulled you back in, asked why, but you didn’t answer. you just said goodbye and left. later, in bed, the night replayed itself. i texted you, “so that’s what you meant.” i don’t want to forget this night, so i write it down.