A few years back, I had a thing for this girl. This absolutely beautiful girl. Her features were merely just eloquently brushed on by the paint strokes of God. She was a masterpiece. I had it bad for her…and I mean bad. I had a quest for love which was nothing short of romantic. If you would have looked up the word Romantic, you would have found my name under it.
So, needless to say I was rejected…time after time. Eventually, I realized there was no hope and I needed to move on. I did just that. After my scars healed, I became very good friends with her. Everything was normal, no feelings…except a small lingering one that was burrowed away in my soul. I could sense the same.
Years have past and we have kept in touch ever so often. Every time we saw each other, a vibe was floating around. It wasn’t a sexual or awkward. It was a vibe of something that we couldn’t explain.
What happened is…I was too late. I was told too late. I was told the things I always wanted to hear. To hear those words, it came with sincerity but the sincerity burned my almost completed bridge to the end. I saw her waiving at the end of the bridge as I was laying my last brick but she said, “I’d never want to change you.” The bridge fell and crashed into the rushing waves of the blue abyss. I looked up through the restless water at the silhouette of beauty at the end. I reach forth. I blink my eyes, and the silhouette is no more. Only the bright yellow sun stalks me. I never got to say, “I’ve already changed before I knew.”
“Woman of my dreams. I don’t sleep, so I can’t find her.”