The things we recognize but do not say

we go out, fall into a slight intoxication - not enough to constitute as drunk, but enough to make us stare a little longer, and smile a little bigger. enough to make us say more than maybe we should. enough to make us turn off our cell phones and forget about others. you talk to me about her and while you never say it directly, you tell me in your lazy descriptions what i know. you want so bad for it to work out, for what you have with her seems so perfect. more perfect than anything before. i don't pry, i don't encourage a deeper dish about the problems. instead i listen and smile and wonder if this smile is making it worse. you're doing the thing you used to do, you're watching my lips form the words, occasionally glancing back up to my eyes as if to briefly check in with me. its a contagious behavior and i find myself doing the same to you. you slip and say my name in a drawn out manner, as if you are going to tell me something you shouldn't. its the pause before a leap that i recognize from a sometimes-brief and sometimes-long time ago. i wait for it, silently struggling with hope and fear. your eyes bounce from corner to corner in the room. i see how uncomfortable you are and in an effort to distract you from it, i catch the eye of the waiter and order us 2 more drinks. it works and the moment has passed. and, as beautiful as what has just happened may seem to others, we both breathe a deep inaudible sigh of relief.