I know I’m only twenty-one. I know we only met this year. I know you live incredibly far from me. But man, was I falling for you.

I was falling for you like I haven’t with anyone else before. And that means something. Especially when I consider myself the furthest thing from a romantic. We didn’t have that long together, but if life could have continued in the same manner, I know I would have been a happy girl. For the first time I could see someone with me in the future. That someone was you.

I still think about you a lot. Clearly.

My mind will wander, eyes focusing on a place to stare, and I’m transported back to my favorite memories with you. Like the time we went to see Zootopia during finals, or sat for hours talking and drinking bubble tea or when you ate dinner twice at my house, or I jumped on your back at the quarry. There were so many good ones in such a short period of time. Did this happen because we knew time was limited or because we actually, truly connected? I know my answer.

I also know I’m a little crazy. Heck I feel a little crazy saying all of this. So go ahead and call me that when I ask: Why didn’t we give us a fighting chance? 

I can’t seem to figure out what’s more painful: having tried and eventually failed, or never having been worth the shot. 

I know regardless of whether you tell me you’ve moved on or remain single, it will still be sore for me. I’ll always just be the girl you spent your last months of college with, nothing more. The girl who still has a stupid crush on you. The girl who keeps wondering what if? The girl who remains hopeful even though she shouldn’t. The girl you message here and there. The girl you’ll let know when you find her replacement…

That one hurt.

Granted, I did bring it upon myself when I asked to know if you found someone new. I guess I just wanted the answer to be different. Silly, silly girl.

I must not have made a strong enough impression on you, left a deep enough mark, or been the only one capable of making your heart content. 

I know I like you more than you like me. I know this because I’ve said it to you before and you don’t contradict me. I tell you I will be the one to get hurt. You don’t argue with that either. I was the one to speak first about serious things. I was the only one to bring them up actually. I was the one to give you my feelings, all exposed. I was the fearless one. I was the one who wanted more. But I know I’ll never get more from you.

I wish you would have wanted to stay with me despite the odds against us. I wish I had fought for us. I wish I had meant enough to you. I know you meant more than enough to me. But no matter what I know to be true it doesn’t change where we are now. It doesn’t change the fact that I’m replaceable to you. It doesn’t change the fact that everything I hope you’re going to say to me you never do. It doesn’t change the fact that I think I may have loved you. 

Yeah, love.

All this I know.