I have to stop dreaming of a story that isn’t mine.
I need to face the facts.
He chose her.
He wanted her.
He loves her.
I didn’t want him.
I didn’t like him.
I didn’t think I’d love him.
And I’m now scrolling through pictures, a facade painted on my face as I see one of them.
How nice that must be.
To be in his arms.
The place I didn’t want.
Bad timing is a devil.
I don’t know what’s worse, the daydreaming of him…
or the knowing of him.
It’s been months since our last serendipitous moment.
A moment I choose to believe was just that, a moment.
Just a fraction of time taken from our live’s, just a brief meeting that meant nothing.
But I know it’s more than nothing.
It feels like the world throws him in my face when I’m not looking and before I can stand up to say goodbye, he’s gone.
What an odd coincidence it is.
Running into you after all this time.
In a town that isn’t mine.
A town that’s barely his.
Keeping up with this feels like an unwanted chore.
It’s not my choice.
I see him every once in a while in my dreams, and that’s the end of it.
I see him once in a while in reality, and we don’t speak of it.
I see him in pictures and I picture myself in her place.
Then I picture myself going insane.
“This is stupid” I think and gently whisper out loud when no ones listening.
But it’s the furthest thing.
Meeting him was like meeting someone from my past that I’d never met in person before.
It’s not something I can explain, but that’s not going to stop me.
People say movies are not real, story book endings are written so there’s always a happy one, and people don’t get these endings forever. His brown eyes tell a story different from the words falling from his mouth. Gentle and kind they are, with the same warning sign for me to flea. His arrogance creates a fire in me. His smirk matches mine, and I am at a loss for words. How can he still excite me to the point where my whole day is rearranged by the sign of his name. What is it. Why is it. How can it. How could it. Does he know what he’s doing in this universe we’re stuck in, or does he not have a clue, like me. Maybe we’re both two bumbling blobs, or maybe we’re on track to something bigger than we know. But he had someone right now, and I need to keep letting that go.