I was minding my own business, trying to focus on me, and then there you were.
As result of sweet serendipity, you suddenly entered my life. You pursued me. You confused me. I didn’t know what you were doing, or why you were doing it. At first I had my guard up. Slowly though, the walls came crumbling down.
I was naive and unfamiliar to everything, because it was my first time. You were sweet, romantic, thoughtful, considerate, and funny. Almost too good to be true. I didn’t want to give into your charm but you stroked my broken heart with your warm hands.
You were broken, too. I guess that’s what I couldn’t resist.
I thought we could be there for one another. I thought I could also touch your broken fading heart. I wanted to fix you. Our hearts became familiar to one another. I looked ahead and ran to you. I told you things I had never told anyone else.
You held onto me. But little did I know, you already had someone in your heart.
Someone you were trying so hard to forget. Someone who hurt you. Overcome with anger, I resented the fact that you approached me. I resented you. Why did you make me fall for you?
But now I understand – you didn’t hurt me. You were also hurting. All the expectations and hopes I had for us hurt me. Expectations for a relationship doomed never to happen. We almost happened. Almost. That hurt me.
Now we are just friends who barely talk. We went back to being strangers, even though I had already seen your bare soul and you mine. The beautiful canoe ride. The shooting stars. The trips across Europe. The heartbreak. The countless photographs we took. The long phonecalls. The sleepless nights, when we just cuddled in bed talking about our futures and fears. The confusion. All those meals you cooked for me. All those times you made me laugh until I cried. The time when you held me in your arms and cried with me, after I found out my father passed away. The loneliness.
You left me these bittersweet memories. You, the boy who let me fall too hard because he was too broken to catch me. Even though I am over you, I sometimes walk on the road we used to walk, to see if it still means the same to me. I hope you sometimes think about me, too. About us. About what we could have been. About what we almost could have been. Our almost was ephemeral.