Sarah. That was her name.
You liked her, didn't you? The way she moved, the way her voice resonated in your skin... everything about her was enchanting.
When you saw her the first time, you felt your heart tug a little at the sides, didn't you? But you remembered to breathe, and did your best to conceal your fascination for her. Then all of a sudden, your eyes met, and you swore she smiled at you- yes, she smiled at you!- and the mask melted away and you sat there, lost in delight, serenely taking in her presence.
You dismissed it as a little crush- promised yourself it wouldn't be anything more than lust.
Slowly, day by day, you found yourself falling under a spell she didn't mean to cast upon you; you were bewitched by her laughter at your witty jokes, the gentle ringing that it leaves even after it has died away; the soft twinkle in her eyes as she describes, rather passionately, of her favourite things; and how she stares off into the distance when the comfortable silence reaps in, and all you have is each other.
You find yourself watching her when she speaks, because that is when she lights up the most. There is something magical about her that you can't quite explain- but it's there, and you like every bit of it.
Then you realise her fanatical obsession with Gumball and Darwin.
And she appears to be, it seems, worshipping them. Why would she do that, you ask yourself. A pang of jealousy groans inside of you, and you turn envious. But you were unaware of the feeling. Thought it was just a stomachache.
Nothing that should concern you.
Between the morning chatter you engaged yourself with, from the corner of your eye you see her gravitate towards them, and you want to reach out and grab her and never let her go, because you wanted her for yourself.
It hurt so much you couldn't take it anymore.
So you distanced yourself from her.
You told yourself it was fine. You blamed yourself for even thinking that you had a chance with her, when she was obviously in love with two idiots. Stupid idiots.
..Stupid Sarah.
There was a long silence after the raging tantrums battling in your head when a soft whisper brought you back to earth.
You recognised the voice immediately, but feigned ignorance. You were angry at her, and she should know why.
With concern she held your hands, and you instinctively intertwined your fingers between hers. She gasped in shock, and lifted her chin up to meet you again, and her eyes delved deep into yours.
Her face was so near, and, for the first time, you had the chance to relinquish in every feature presented on it with scrutiny and admiration.
From her eyes, hazel brown and wide as saucers; to her nose, small and stout; her cheeks, round and rosy; then slowly, your gaze landed on her lips, and it seemed so pink, so tasty, so..
..kissable.
You couldn't hold it in anymore.
You plunged in for her lips.
But you were afraid she would push you away, and yet you still insisted. You've always wanted to kiss her. You've always wanted to know how she tasted like.
"I love you, Sarah.", you said between short breaths, waiting for her to say something in return.
You continued to gently force your lips against hers, waiting for the thin strips of pink to part and make your way inside, mashing tongues and fluids-
...but she kept her lips shut.
You stopped. You hung your head in shame. Untangled your fingers from hers, and muttered a small apology.
It was over.
Why did I do that? Why? That was so stupid of me.
It wasn't-
I didn't mean to-
You love her.
You love her, don't you?
You love her. You want her. You need her.
You can tell, from your eyes reflected on hers.
But she doesn't love you the same way. She doesn't love you with the same amount of intensity that you do, no, not even close. She doesn't love you as much as you'd like her to. She'll never love you that way. Ever. Not ever.
And you know this. You believe in this so strongly that its been poisoning your thoughts whenever you're alone. Whenever you're given time to think.
She doesn't love you.
How do you know this?
Sarah.
You call you to her. You try, but she's all blurred in your watery vision. You can't see her through your tears.
You start to choke on your words, your regrets piling up on you like bricks dropping from the sky. There's nothing left to do. Nothing left of you.
All those nights deep in thought of dream-like what-ifs that could be; would be-
Would never be.
You'd never be able to hold her in your arms and tell her that you'd do everyhting to protect her. And for once, you'd actually mean it. You'd never be able to lay with her, skin against bare skin, cherishing every part of her that you so wished to see. You'd never be able to hold her hand and give it that little squeeze to reassure her that she was all you ever wanted, all that you'd ever needed.
You wanted her so badly to be yours, didnt you?
But that would never happen. Ever.
Not ever.
"Forget this ever happened."