The Future In Your Eyes

“I ask you to stop. Looking at me that way.” She said.
“Why?” He asks quietly.
“Because I see the future in your eyes. And that’s how it hurts.” She tells him.
She fiddles on a toggle on her coat, stares at the pavement right below. Her voice quivers in the cold. Looks up only to look far into the city lights beyond the bay.
“I see how you’d make a woman wake up to each morning with a smile having you so close by.
I see how you’d be running after a toddler wobbling on his or her bike.
I see how you’d stand at the video game store deciding over whether you would buy the game or buy her flowers instead. And how flowers will always win.
How all your plans can change so you can fit into her plans. Because time with her is that precious.” She rambles on.
“It hurts because sometimes I think that woman is me.” She tells him honestly.
“But my reason tells me that she can be just any woman. This is how you would be with any woman in your future. And that’s how I know that whoever she turns out to be, she will be lucky. For you.” She whispers as if rapping her words. “And that’s what hurts.” She states matter-of-factly before falling silent.

“You give me too much credit.” He finally says after moments that felt endless.
“It won’t work that way. The way you see it. With any woman, as you say.” He continued, searching for words.
“True. I can be all that, but the thing is I wasn’t any of that with anybody else before you.” He murmurs to the point of stutter.
“So, that future, the one you see in my eyes. That future can only happen when it’s me with you.”

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