Years have passed yet I still find myself thinking about you. I replay the little moments that we shared over and over in my head, tell the stories of you, almost as though it was just yesterday. I tell myself that I am over you, that you’re just a distant memory, a beautiful memory that wasn’t meant for me. But I’m lying.
Guys have tried to hit on me, flirt with me but every time they do, I think of the way your subtle, awkward touches. I recall the way you’d pull back, almost as though you’ve been burned. The chemistry between us, unspoken but not unfelt. I knew right there and then, if I got to know you more, I’d fall into the abyss of no return.
Until today, I wonder what you were thinking every time you attempted to dissect my thoughts. Was I merely just a puzzle you wanted to figure out because I was, in your words, “mysterious” or were you genuinely interested in getting to know me?
Up till now, you are still the one person I wish I had, albeit for a little while. But you’re too good. Too perfect for me. And there I was, a little girl, broken, scarred and cold. I was never going to be good enough for you. I was never going to be the one you’d look at and go “Wow, she’s beautiful. She’s perfect. She’s mine.” But I wish I was.
Maybe in another life, I’d be the girl you love. The one that makes you breath catch. Not just during those little moments but every single moment we spend together. Maybe in another life, you wouldn’t be with her and I wouldn’t have been in your life a tad too late. Maybe in another life, I’d be brave enough to tell you that I like you, while praying that you felt the same. Maybe in another life, we’d have experienced love with each other, no matter how long we loved. Maybe in another life, I’d be the one you love.