She was the one that got away. I didn't even realize I was in love with her until she was gone. Not gone from my life, but out of the realm where she might even consider me a potential mate. That is, if I ever had the potential to be her mate. And I assume I did, because at some point I'm pretty sure I had a shot. And I blew it. Like I always do. And it all leaves me here to pine after her in her absence.
Unrequited love isn't the worst thing to suffer from. In fact, I kind of enjoyed it for a while. I could cuddle her in bed, watch her get dressed, and all of those other things I've realized are kind of perverted, and she never treated me differently. She was always in the dark about my feelings, so I could always enjoy the intimacy she gave so honestly.
Then people started to notice what a beauty she is. To be more specific, boys. Dooming me to forever be the best friend. Which, I suppose, should be enough. Its not, though. It never will be.
I should probably discuss this shot I mentioned a little further. I didn't create it in my head so I could pity myself now. It really did happen. She really did give me an opening.
"Have you ever kissed a girl, Sam?"
She asked me so innocently and so curiously. I, of course, never had because I intimidate people more than make them want me. Boy or girl. So I shook my head, adverting my eyes so she couldn't see the panic in them.
"Do you want to try it?"
I was a bad influence on her. I know it. She knows it. Its common fact. I made her do and consider things she never would have in her own world. I assumed this was just one of those things, not a real offer. So I laughed and ate blueberry muffin bits.
"Can I kiss you? Just once?"
I should never have let her. I should never have let our lips connect. I admit, I wasn't instantly in love with her or anything. There weren't sparks or whatever else one is supposed to experience with that perfect first kiss. There was comfort, though. There was a familiarity that was enticing. It made it okay.
Later, this experience grew into much more than what it really was. The kiss lasted probably thirty seconds and, like I said, I didn't feel too much of anything. Now I dream about it. Every time I'm with her, my lips reminisce and I yearn for her.
Nothing matters now. Although I'm sure she remembers, we don't talk about it. She's moved on, and I've accepted that. No matter how hard it is. She was my first love and continues to fill my heart to this day. And I think, just maybe, I was hers. It's not enough anymore, but what can I do?
Carly Shay, you're killing me.
She was the one that got away.