Finding A Way

How can I hold on to something that wasn't mine? The question swirls around my mind, running frantically as I peer out into the pinks and purples o f the oncoming dusk, another day racing into night. I had my chance with her, I had my chance with happiness, and now…now it's sinking, just as the last vestiges of the sun finding solace in the horizon. Like the retreating sun, I seek to be muted, to have this feeling of despair drowned away from me. Each thought of her causes another stabbing pain, the last ones just as deep as the first, and the images of her smiling as she took his hand, leading him out. Her laugh was light and almost musical, enchanting, her smile burned brighter than a thousand suns. It hurt to see her happiness and know it's not with me. It was a pain I was sure that I would not be able to shed as the day shed its light, the pinks and purples now morphing into a bank of gray, mirroring my emotions. If it had been my hand, this night would not feel as if it were lost before it began. If it were my hand, I'd spend it touching her, caressing her…loving her. How can I hold on to something that wasn't mine? That's the question that will pierce me for many more sunsets to come, knowing that I'd never have her.