My long black hair falls loosely around my shoulders.
Juliet’s hair.
His strong, gentle hands curl tightly around the coffee mug
Romeo’s hands.
And Romeo’s eyes watch the others, but not Juliet.
Because she isn’t Juliet,
Yet.
The thick waves of separation lie in the ocean between them, but only she sees them.
Only she is aware of them.
Because he’s Romeo.
Romeo hears the sounds of laughter but doesn’t hear hers.
Because she’s not there.
Juliet sees Romeo’s face painted on the canvas of her mind.
Because he’s her Romeo.
Romeo walks the path opposite Juliet because he wants to meet his Juliet.
But Juliet follows closely behind.

Because he’s always been her Romeo.