Our society has been so enamored with love. Having love, being loved, loving someone..."having loved and lost."
I am not so sure I have ever loved another. I've loved my family, but it's not the same. I have been completely smitten with one. I have wanted one more than I care to admit. I have yet to "love and lost"...
...or have I?
I do believe I have loved. Once. I loved a boy when I was a youngen. He was a boy I thought I'd be with forever. We grew up, and only recently have we reconnected. He's still the boy I loved, just grown up.
In recent years, I've been known to fall for just about anyone that glances my way, twice. I fall if they pretend to like me. I know my limits, which is probably why I am still single.
I have currently had it bad for this fella I worked with some time ago. He is absolutely adorable, and I knew I didn't stand a chance the minute my eyes met his. It's a long...LONG...story. One I'd rather not go into. Lets just say, I wanted him to like me, and he just wanted to get into my pants.
Well, I didn't get what I wanted...and neither did he.
A few months after our "chance" encounter, I wished he'd die.
...fast forward to now...
Tonight he got hit by a car while on his crotch rocket (ahem...bullet bike). He didn't die, but I instantly felt horrible for ever wishing such a thing.
I still wish he'd want me, but he has a girlfriend. I still wish he thinks of me, but I know he doesn't. I would only be so lucky.
Part of me wishes he'd read this pathetic little remembrance of what could have been a great something. He'll never know the depths of my heart. The longing of my soul. Every time I just get a glimpse of him, my heart breaks a little.
We could have been amazing together. I guess somethings are just meant to be...and others aren't.
-A.
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