Once upon a time, I loved you. I smiled at your stupid jokes, cried when you hurt, and cracked up when you tripped like a clutz. I fell for you and as I am paralyzed by the impact of the fall, I marvel at your beauty. I tilt my head to the left, come back center, to the right, back to center. It comes to me that I fell alone. You weren’t here to catch me. I saw you, but you never saw me. It’s like one of those nightmares where no matter how hard you scream or cry or run or destroy things, no one notices you. Like a window, I feel transparent. In class, as the teacher droned on and on, I caught your eye and you winked. I inhaled sharply and stared down at my desk, at the inscription some idiot made, Math Sucks. I feel my cheeks burn as if I was sun burnt. I almost risk a glance up at you, but I know I shouldn’t. I mean, I’m sure you think I’m some creepy stalker chick already. I’m not though. Well… not really. Honest! I just wish you could see me as a door to open, or a path to walk down, or even a flower to pick and leave; anything other than a plexi-glass window.
Once upon a time, I loved you.
P.S. I continue to live in that fairy tale.