"I miss running into you in the hillside stairwell; trying to think of something funny to say while my stomach did backflips. I miss wishing you would let me do more than put my arm around you, because at least then I could put my arm around you. I miss being frustrated by you because now I only get to miss you. I'm painfully aware that for years to come I'll be looking for you in every girl that I pursue; because sometimes, I swear, when something reminds me of you I can relive a moment and smile as I remember the happiest I've ever been. But someday, I know, I'll hear that you've met someone else; that may be or it may be in ten years, I don't know. What I do know is that I'll have to call in sick on that day. I've always been bashfully aware that my feelings for you were always stronger than you were strictly comfortable with even when you cared about me, too. I regret that but I can't find it within me to be sorry because no one has ever done so much to make me believe that I wasn't a loser as you did. I remember those weeks in February when you flited with me. You were far from subtle, but I was so clueless. For days I pondered over the super sweet meaning behind your admission to me that I was "your type". I'm actually smiling and tearing up at the same time as I remember that. I was so happy, but I really couldn't believe that it was true that you liked me. You were so cool, so poised, so talented, smart, and beautiful. And at that time I had never loved myself less: how could you notice me? But you did. Time passed, and you and I never worked out but you made me believe that I was worth something, that someday I wouldn't be alone anymore. You will always be one of the most important people in my life and I'll never forget you.
You're always be the girl that got away. I hope I can tell you that someday."
No comments:
Post a Comment