as a teenager, experiencing love (or the perfected image of falling head over heels for someone your age whom you really don't know very well) is inevitable. every late night message. each little word he muttered under his breath. every lingering glance. all of these constitutes such a picture, an unobtainable one.
you know you're not going to be the one he ends up with. not the one who will hide under his umbrella on a rainy summer's afternoon, nor the one he lends his coat to on a cold, winter's night. yet you cannot help but dream. the prospect of him, i'd say, is pretty damn appealing.
you'll think you're over him, but each time when you see him with another girl in his arm, it bites back just as hard as the last time. the smiles on their faces, they seem genuine. maybe he is happy this time around. in some parallel universe, you think, maybe we'd be together.
he's the boy with the perfect teeth. the one with the low, sultry voice. the one who once tried to teach you how to shuffle in a club on the dance floor. the one who then kissed you on the dance floor. the one who walked you to a taxi stand to make sure you'll reach home safely.
the one who seemed perfect. the one who was never yours.
No comments:
Post a Comment