When he kissed me, I felt weightless. When he held me, I felt safe. When he looked at me, I felt beautiful. He made me feel things that I’ve never felt before. He treated me like a princess. Hell, he treated me better than a princess. He was the epitome of perfect; your fairy tale prince charming, if you will. When I was with him, he treated me the way every girl secretly dreams of from childhood. He took me on dates, never told me a lie, (always) held the door open for me, and never stopped listening. Smart, successful, giving. He was going to take care of me.
Think about the last time you saw the clock in your car turn 11:11 and you had that little debate in your head about how stupid it is to make a wish because it’s not actually lucky. Why would it be lucky? It’s a freaking time. There’s nothing special about it.
But you wish anyway.
And with the exception now and then, normally your wish stays the same, no?
Mine did. And it was always that I would fall in love. Real love, with passion, and drama, and fights, and adventures. A love that could move mountains and inspire. A love that could fill an empty room without a single sound. I have always wanted nothing more than to be irrevocably in love, head over heels, and at the very least, bad-shit crazy about someone.
He was so good to me, though. So unbelievably good that it breaks my heart to think about the pain that I put him through when I ended it. Why did I let him go? I think about it more often than I should. The sickest part? If I were to call him right now, I really think he would take me back before I could even bat my eyes. And I consider it all the time. He is so good and pure and genuine. And the worst part? I didn’t even end it with him. I just stopped calling. Stopped answering. I was an asshole and I became the type of person I always hated. I had to be though. Otherwise he would have fought for me and that wouldn’t have been even a tiny bit fair to him.
Every day I wonder what would happen if I called him because I sure do miss that smile. Every day I try to convince myself to spend the rest of my life with him because I could be so content. But then every night I tell myself he doesn’t deserve me. What kind of monster would I be to turn somebody so pure into the kind of guy a girl settles for? Sure, I’d be happy but he deserves someone who would be ecstatic. He deserves somebody who will wake up every morning and pray that falling asleep next to him wasn’t just a dream.
And I just can’t do that.
And I hope one day he forgives me for not calling him back.