Two seasons of almost

There was a spring and a summer when I almost moved to be near you and then a fall and a winter when I almost stopped wanting to. Two seasons either side of a yes I never said. Two seasons of almost.

I have a list of the small evidence I gathered. The way you said my name at the train station when you thought I couldn't hear. The shirt you left on the chair by the window. The fact that you knew how I took my coffee after three days, and then pretended for a week that you didn't.

None of it would hold up in any court. None of it was meant to. I think that is what the list is for: to be uncourtworthy. To be the kind of evidence only the witness believes. I am the witness. I believe.