The waitress asked, “Can I get you two anything else?” If only waitresses were genies who could grant wishes.
From the start the menu read “crash and burn.” I chose to order regardless.
It’s hard to walk away when I fit so perfectly into the warm, secure spot you created for me in between two strong arms.
The whimsically romantic little girl in me always wanted a Valentine like you.
But, just like my windshield wiper in that cold snowy February, I wiped my eyes clear of what I was hoping to see and hear and listened to what was really being said.
Oh, but those brown eyes and goofy facial expressions temporarily erased any doubt each and every time.
You were so beautiful to me. I didn’t seem to care if I was any sort of vision to you.
I don’t fall often, but when I do it’s pretty deep. Just like my emotions, my heart is always on display. You told me how easy it was to read me. Like a book that you picked up and read the synopsis of but you were not interested enough to continue on. There was so much more you missed in between my lines. While I was memorizing your story, you were completely obsessed and enthralled in your own.
Icy January roads, nicknames, and you singing to me on our car rides turned me into a living heart-eyed emoji. It’s bizarre how quickly those car rides turned me into feeling unimportant and simply convenient. You see, your biggest mistake however, was to believe that my feelings for you would cloud my judgement. Your biggest mistake was to believe that I couldn’t knock you off that pedestal I so foolishly put you up on. Your biggest mistake was to believe that I would choose someone who couldn’t actively choose me.
I guess I learned that you never had to. I wake up every morning and I choose me. I wake up every morning and I love me for the both of us. I refuse to waste any more energy wondering why you couldn’t.