11:11

Make a wish, he said.  I smiled shyly, because I knew I had only one wish.  It was the same I had been making for a very long time.  As I was lost in the endless pools of your brown eyes, as I drowned in the dimples of your smile, I would make the same wish.  It was simple, nothing special.  I wished you would see how beautiful you are.  I wished you would see everything that I see when my eyes open in adoration to you.

I’ll play along, though.  I’ll make my usual wish.  I crinkle my nose and eyes, and recite my tired old words.  You don’t see the sadness curl my lips, as a tear sneaks out of the corner.  My words caught in my throat, and I coughed them away.  My tired lies slip out again, as I choke back old useless emotions.  My heart has long become acquainted with being given freely with no return.

For the first time, I changed the you to we when I made my wish.  Could I have just been reciting the wrong pronoun all along?

1:11