All I need is a moment. A moment of courage would be brilliant, a moment of nothing but utter bravery to face my fears. But that's not the thing moments are good for. Even if I have just a moment of glimpsing you, a moment of saying hello, then all is well. It might not be the moment that I'm building up to, but it's a moment I've been waiting for nonetheless.
I'm happy to see you. I wonder if you feel the same. I wonder if you catch a glimpse and double back to make sure. I wonder if you hope with pounding heart, or if your breath catches for a fraction of a second. Even if it doesn't, and I'm just another not-quite-a-stranger stranger to you, it doesn't change the fact that you brighten my day like someone swiped the curtain away from the window and let in a stream of light. It doesn't change the fact that I live on a cloud of bliss for a little while after I see you. You're my personal brand of drug, and there isn't a high better than the one that seeing you gives. Maybe if I'm really lucky, one day you'll confess that you feel the same.