You Never Asked

I suppose you can't forbid what "just happened".

You never asked me if you could know my name. You just happened to be my classmate. You just happened to be around on the days our teachers required me to introduce myself to everyone else. Perhaps, it just happened that I stick out like a sore thumb or that my name was as easy to remember as pie.

For whatever reason, you never asked me if you could know my name and I never said you couldn't.

You never asked me if we could be friends. You just happened to be one of those people whom I had to interact with everyday. We just happened to end up in the same crowd. You just happened to be someone I was unconsciously connected to. You just happened to have a past with a friend's friend. It just happened to be a frustratingly small world.

For whatever reason, you never asked me if we could be friends, and I never said we couldn't.

You never asked me if you could fall in love. We just happened to get close. You just happened to like my company. You just happened to like talking to me. It just happened that I understood you. I just happened to be your type.

For whatever reason, you never asked me if you could fall in love with me, and I never said you couldn't.

I suppose that's only fair, because, on the other hand, I never asked you any of these things either, and you never said I couldn't.