There are a lot of things I know for sure. I know for a fact that the grass we see through our eyes is green. I know that the force of gravity pulls objects down And I know for sure that I am not over you, and not over the way things ended between us.
There are things I am not certain about. I don’t know how many different species of fish there are in the Chesapeake Bay, I don’t know if Rob Kardashian ever got skinny again, and I definitely don’t know how I am going to get over you. I don’t know how I’m going to get over it, over us. How am I supposed to get over something that never happened?
I still think a lot about the words you told me. I remember them like you told me 20 minutes ago. And it’s mind boggling to think about how different things are now. You’re a university girl, and I am the boy back home who it didn’t work out with. Whenever I leave school to walk to my car I think about last semester. I think about how it was just us two. I never had to make that walk to my car alone, and neither did you. I used to call you every day after I got off work. I used to meet you at the coffee shop and share in conversation. I used to kiss you on my couch and pull your hips close into mine. 12 months ago I knew the sound of your voice like reciting the words to my favorite song, and today I don’t even have your number programed into my phone.
I wish I had some way to thank you. If I did I would thank you for showing me how it feels to be loved. You came into my life in a time where I felt no one could love me but yet you somehow did. And I know I never got to call you my girlfriend, but at least your heart was mine.
To this day I still think of ways that I could have reciprocated your feelings better. I never wanted you to be the one who got away, but I just wasn’t ready. I wasn’t ready for someone who was as wonderful and caring as you. It was so simple the love you had for me, so electrifying, so palatable. It hurts when I see your pictures, and I try to stay away from your friends. I don’t go to coffee shops, I just make my cup at home. There are songs I don’t listen to, and corners of the library that used to be ours which I no longer care to explore.
The world “almost” is my biggest enemy. You almost loved me, I was almost your boyfriend, and we were almost great. It’s hard to get over this because I only want to show you how it could have been, and how it should have been. All the “what ifs” are constantly on my mind, and I can only dream about the day I can make it up to you. I think to myself what I am going to do when the next girl tells me the same words you told me. Am I supposed to believe her too? A time will come for me to get over you, to get over it, to get over us.
But that time is just not now.