overcomplicating things

I read your silence like a warning, turn one little pause into a prophecy. You said, “See you tomorrow,” and I spent the night decoding every syllable. (Why do I do this?) Maybe it’s simple. Maybe I’m scared. Maybe there was never anything hiding there. I’m overcomplicating things. (Again, again…) Making a storm from a little rain. I’m overcomplicating things. Turning a thought into a thousand names. You said hello. I heard goodbye. You looked away. I thought, “Why?” I’m overcomplicating things. (I know… I know…) I build imaginary conversations with answers you never gave me. I rehearse every possible ending before anything has even happened. Then you call me like nothing's wrong, and suddenly I'm embarrassed by the entire movie I directed in my head. What if? What if? What if? Stop. Maybe. Maybe. Maybe. Enough. Not every silence is rejection. Not every distance means goodbye. Sometimes people are just tired. Sometimes I am, too. (Breathe…) I’m overcomplicating things. (Again…) Turning a spark into a hurricane. I’m overcomplicating things. Giving every little feeling a name. You said hello. I heard goodbye. You looked away. I asked you why. Maybe this time I’ll let it be. Maybe the answer doesn't need to be.