There’s a specific kind of ache when it doesn’t work out with someone you really, really wish it would have worked out with.
Yesterday, I ran into someone I haven’t seen or talked to in a while. We made eye contact, and I smiled at him. He just kept looking at me, then looking away again, until we passed each other without a spoken word or a reciprocated smile.
It’s so weird when you talk to someone every day, and then one day they’re just…
faded into silence.
Someone who used to be your first thought when you woke up and your last before falling asleep. Someone you held, and they held you back. Someone whose lips you know against yours. Someone whose taste you still remember. Someone whose secrets you still hold tight to your chest.
And now you’re passing each other in hallways like ghosts.
There’s something so strange and quietly painful about that. How a person can be close enough to look at, but somehow too far away to reach. How someone can know parts of you other people never got to touch, and still become someone you don’t even know how to say hello to anymore.
I had written a poem for him after we spent a night together. I still think about that night sometimes.
Because even though you could never quite believe it, you did make that big of an impression on me. And yes, I will always remember you.
I will continue to look for the qualities I saw in you, the ones special enough to want in the next person I’m with. I hope you find what you’re looking for, and I hope you find trust and happiness.
Because you’re genuinely a good person, and you deserve the world.