When We Meet Again Poem by Sharon Namwalizi

I finally convinced myself
I was over you.
My heart no longer skips a beat
at the sound of your name,
nor does it frown
at the thought of us
never existing as one—
not in this timeline.

But sometimes I catch myself
fearing time and distance
have only built an illusion—
and the moment I see you,
everything will come
crumbling down.

I don't want to test this
But I imagine the moment—
when we meet again.
Even in my head it's hard to tell
if I truly am…over you.

I imagine us meeting randomly—
as nothing between us
was ever planned from the start.
I nearly walk past you,
lost in thought,
but then your voice
breaks through my walls,
catching me off guard,
and all my defenses fail.

I see the excitement in your eyes.
We're talking again, like we used to,
and I remind myself—
but it feels like talking to air.
So I'm back to square one.

How can I plan to avoid
something as random
as just looking at you?

Other times, I imagine myself
bold, in control.
But that's the lie I tell myself.
Looking closer now,
it doesn't seem so kind.

It's me avoiding your eyes
though I know you are staring.
At the corner of my vision
I catch your gaze trailing after me,
your neck turning as I pass.
And guilt burns me too.

Sometimes it's just us,
a simple greeting exchanged.
But my thoughts consume me,
I am absent.
You feel my coldness,
and I feel yours.

But this is only imagination.
I just want you to know
I don't hate you.
I don't want my actions
to make you think I do,
just as I don't want yours
to tell me the same.

You should be happy.
That's what we both need.

So maybe the next time we meet,
the flutter in my chest
will finally be gone.
And the spark in your eyes
when we speak
will not be there.

It will just be
two people talking.
And that's okay.

~ sharonnamzi
11/9/25 16: 20