My Secret Captain
I wonder if she ever knew how badly I wanted her.
I would see how nervously she would join in on the chatter of those who spoke of men, seeing how displeased she was in their attempts to win her over.
She glanced over at me to give me a little wink in between their words, her little gesture to let me know she was still present.
I was present too.
How could she go on remaining so dishonest to herself, did she not know how many open arms would welcome her in?
I was once that way.
Hiding my admiration for woman of her virtue and heart, still sometimes hesitating in my excitement in way I would never do with a man.
I should remember her fear.
Instead I move along, trusting one day she’ll find her courage, for she bares the strength more powerful than any captain she claimed to admire.
And while I could be there when that day comes, I now stand worlds away. I don’t know if it’s because it’s what she needed to grow or because I myself grew selfishly impatience and tired.
But I miss her none the less and her stories from around the sea.