A white rose

The only way I can truly be honest with these words is if I know they will never reach him.

         I hate how even though years have come and gone, that when it comes down to it, I still love you. 

         I will never forget the first time we met and even after hours of pillow talk that my heart still soared among the butterflies when you wrapped your arms around me.  That single white rose was the only indication you gave that I was special and a letter that I choose not to open until it was too late.  As fate should have it, we still found a way to each other and for that electrifying time life was grand.  I was captivated in how easily I loved you, and disgusted at how completely I destroyed you.  I was senseless then...greedy and selfish, full of lies and unbalanced.  I will never forget that the fault is mine.  But we all have our flaws, we just never correct them until the sand runs out of the time glass.

         I was sentenced into a different life then with new rules and obligations and even though I wanted to hang onto you with all my humanly might, until my arms pained to dull the burn of good bye, I knew it was over.  It hurt, oh it shattered me, dismantled me, broke me... for years and no one could rival what I held for you, you were simply matchless.  Countless times I would try to find a replacement that only made me feel depleted...any time I stole a kiss from another, it just hollowed me out more.  Time has worked its magic in a sense, I am okay, I am healed, but I know without a doubt that if I were to see you today I would crumble to the floor and absorb my loss all over again. 

         I have seen your picture recently and you're different, your hair, your face, your image all of it has changed but still you hold me hostage in my own body.  It's something I just can't understand, we were so young, and it was a short time.. yet it had a monumental impact.

         I often find myself thinking "what if" but once the daydream fades I realize that you hate me, and I have myself to thank.

         So thank you woman in the mirror that let him slip through your fingers, thank you for the void that is nearly impossible to evade when strolling on memory lane, thank you for proving there truly is a thin line between love and hate but thank you most of all for that short time you allowed for genuine, pure and uninhibited happiness.