I used to smile whenever I saw my love’s first prey. It still makes me wonder whether or not I would have run for cover back then, whenever I saw you. Middle school held a certain chain unto my heavy heart, dragging it down and down and down, whatever that meant then. I used to watch you laugh, and smile, as they grouped to your new toy; that silly shiny thingamabob that simply drew them near to you, as if they were attracted to its polished surface. High school was a relief from all the pain I felt, when I was ten. I saw you once again in the doorway, staring off in the distance. She was walking with that aura of frustration and hate, and you sat there watching her with eyes as wet as the ocean. I had to remind myself, that the ocean is always blue. Blue is the color they say represents, the feeling I have for you. And so I walked right passed and let you stare off, at pretty Emily.
High school began to hurt more and more, whenever I saw you. I never knew that when I heard my best friend’s lady had left, that I would ache for you the way I do, just to watch you hide. Your poker face is easing away, as you watch her now. Your jealous pain is filled with the hate that I once owned. She struts about him like he’s everything she’d ever need. You can’t deny the fact that she’s right, and you’re very very wrong.

So I wrote a letter to you, back when I was sixteen. I hardly saw you at school anymore. Ever since you left my community all I’ve seen is a picture of you, which sits by my bedside table. So I wrote that letter, trying to share the feelings collected up somewhere in my deep wishing well.
I never got one back.
I suppose its contents were all mixed emotions. I never knew how to express myself on a blank piece of paper. You probably didn’t understand, but I simply wanted you to know that I cared for you deeply.

College took me far from my home. I took me far from my home. Home didn’t seem like home without you. I tried to run away- to forget you. I tried a lot of things. My life didn’t really turn out the way I had planned, now, did it? A writer, I said. A writer, I deemed. I would submit, earn a scholarship, and forget you, I would. I convinced myself that I had, after it had been six years. From my lovely home in America, by the wilderness of Oregon, I did flee from everything I ever needed, and I convinced myself I lived in France. I took classes, and you were far away, with Emily. She was so much happier with you, until that day. You called my phone and told me that she’d run away. Heaven knows why but a life drown in a river one day. I could have sworn I saw you dying from all of your pain. Your eyes were glowing with hate, and you bellowed to God, that he’d bring her back.
She left you wishing that you could follow her, but I knew you knew better than that. I went back to France with my unintentional books, and my unintentional gaze. I didn’t hand you my life for no good reason, now.

You took a new approach to life, when I next saw your face. You were twenty then, and I was just nineteen. I was in Paris one day visiting the big city. You were there, and you were fighting in an alley, until you saw my face. I shook my head at you, and all you did to your own disgrace. The shame you bore that day could have never faded for my face. I was reduced to tears when I saw you, groveling at their feet. You were a man then, and now, you’re just a kid.

I stressed my head off for the one I love. You never wrote to me or came to show me you cared. I never wanted anything more than what I’d already had. Life was no worse than it was the day I met you.