I'm sure you've heard of him, the one that got away, my constant summer love. The one I measure everyone up to. I've recently learned it is not that I am ever comparing in the beginning of things, but just in the end. When things don't work out, when I feel wronged or I get hurt is when I compare others to him. The one who never hurt me, never turned away, even if he can't be there for me romantically, he is always a friend. Letting me down easily, bringing me a smile and raising my spirits, and sometimes hope.
But that's not really fair, thinking that I want that back again whenever something doesn't work out. He is my tub of ice cream. After it's done it hasn't really made me feel better and I am left with a bitter regret. I think I want that back, ask him if he ever thinks of it, thinks of me. He never turns me away or tells me to back off, so time and time again I run to him. Stirring up something that only exists in the summer when we were 17. I think it feels safe for me, wanting to care about someone who is so far away geographically. I can keep him close to me with a safe distance. I can care for him, but not get too close, reducing my risk of a broken heart.
I won't lie, the feelings will always be there, and I will always think of him fondly, and more so at times when I am lonely, or a little drunk. But it is not the answer, hopefully typing this will help me realize that and break the cycle. But maybe there is no hope for the hopeless. And if there is one thing I AM sure of, it is that, how utterly hopeless I really am.
- The Hopeless Romantic
No comments:
Post a Comment