Imagine how she felt the first time she saw him.

He was just another guy, going about, doing the usual everyday things. She was not your average girl, but she’d been looped into categories & looped into stereotypes constantly by those around her. She knew she wasn’t supposed to care, but deep down she did. She constantly longed for acceptance - the kind that was good for her wavering self-esteem.

When she saw him, she became thoughtful. She thought to herself, “He’s interesting in a way most guys are not.” So she tried. Something in her was drawn to him. Something inside her was waiting for an introduction. A bridge to connect their worlds apart personalities. “I wonder,” she thought to herself, “what kind of person he is.” It was the curiosity that got to the best of her.

There she was, walking, lost in her music & her poetry. There he stood, silent, brooding, alone. There they were. In one spot, but the distance was evident. The kind only their minds knew & understood.

Would he believe how great his impact was on her?

Days of conversations deemed incognito. Late hours spent lost in thought. Minutes ticking by with every track played, analyzed, felt. Books read & re-read, in hopes of finding even just a morsel of meaning.

The days turned into weeks, the late hours turned to dawn. Conversations mattered to her immensely. Still, she couldn’t figure him out. What was he thinking? Is this what he really is? Is he purposely concealing a certain part of him?

Whatever it was, she wanted more.

What he couldn’t possibly give her.

Was it fear? Hesitance? Or was it simply nothing? Until the months flew by. Conversations turned from lively to awkward. Deep, to meaningless.

Then the inevitable happened - the silence that she knew meant it wasn’t right. It wasn’t a connection that could push through. It was a fleeting moment.

Once it was beautiful. Once it meant a lot to her. Now it was simply lifeless. Not knowing, never knowing, what it was he saw. What it meant, if it did at all.

Imagine how he made her feel.
How he raised her up unknowingly just to knock her down again.

What a fool she was, she couldn’t help but curse herself. She honestly believed. She hoped in a way young girls wouldn’t. She wrote - poured her heart out, as she filled pages & pages. She was, as foolish as always. Naive, vulnerable.

You could say she was a dreamer …

That much was clear. But what he was, she knew, was a let down. Another reminder of how harsh things could be when they took a turn for the worst. What he was, was something alright. Something only she saw, & secretly loved & wanted to keep.

What she was? She was broken. It was yet again another secret she struggled to keep, or to forget.

Like a love letter tucked away in a drawer.

Both complex, both constantly lost in thought. What were they, really?

Questions. Empty words. Unfinished business.

She knew she had to push away those persistent thoughts, as difficult as it was to do so.

“After all,” she thought. “He dismissed thoughts of me aside like it was the easiest task in the world.”