Do you remember?
How you were the first to doubt my words.
I always used to have 2 words written on the back of my notebook. They were scribed boldly in black marker. I used the back so that I don't need to repeatedly write them.
The next time I saw you, you ran straight to me.
You bowed instantly, muttering words of apology. You didn't have to do that. You weren't wrong.
You asked me why I said that the other day.
You saw that I didn't have a pen on me. You reached in your pocket, handing me a marker.
You planned for this didn't you?
I held my notebook close, giving you a blank stare.
You awkwardly retracted your hand, knowing I wasn't going to use it.
There was a lot of passing people in the corridors. It felt rude to be blocking the way.
I turned my notebook around, showing you the 2 words on the back.
You looked at them, then looked back at me. I could tell you weren't sure.
But the 2 words should have been enough.
"It's ok."
