(Source: thisisnotmyfairytaleendingg)

As much as I want to go to a gay pride event every year when I ear about them in various places… none of those places are close enough to where I live. Because I live in a crappy little city near nothing exciting where the majority of the citizens seem to be homophobes… one year… one year…

On another note… why the hell am I still awake? 

I couldn’t tell you if it was the way she looked, or the way she acted, but somehow when I looked over at her I couldn’t stop myself from smiling. I knew at that precise moment that I would never feel the same way about anyone else.

I don’t know if I could really say I loved her, because in my own head, and according to society, I was too young to understand what love was. I do know one thing though, and that is that she was absolutely beautiful and when she smiled it practically melted my heart.

Beautiful is not a word I ever used. Just as love never was. I called people pretty. I called them hot, or attractive, but never beautiful. Here’s my reason why. A friend of mine once told me that he considered the word beautiful to provoke some kind of feeling. It wasn’t just a word to describe someone or something, but also to show that said person or thing brought him some kind of feeling or emotion, and that’s just what she did for me. 

When I ran into her at a local store one time she smiled at me. It wasn’t because she’s a very pretty lady, or that she has a cute smile, though both are true. It was also because it for the first time in a long time, made me instantly happy… and it was nothing more than a simple smile. At that moment, I couldn’t help myself from thinking about how absolutely beautiful she truly was.

And so now when I think of her I think of how much I miss her. I miss being able to talk to her and how she always seemed to know when I was upset even if nobody else did. I miss the way she made me laugh or smile even if I didn’t want to.  I hated having to leave. It felt like I was leaving part of me behind.

Maybe I’ll run into her again sometime and somehow muster up the courage to say something. After all, she actually smiled at me that one time in that store, which was something that surprised me, because it wasn’t something she normally did. 

If it ever brings tears to my eyes to think about her I can tell you this… it’s not because it’s painful to remember, it’s because I’m remembering how happy she made me, and still makes me when I see her. It’s because the years I spent getting to know her brought me some of the best memories I will not soon forget.

 I do wish some days that I could go back, but then I think of one simple thing… I can still see her again some day. It may take a while, but I haven’t completely left her behind. If I ever wanted to I could talk to her. Like I have said already, maybe someday I will again. 

For now though… I will sit here thinking about how I was lucky enough to meet someone like her. And how as I grow older and probably move away, and even after she’s gone and I’m still here, I will never EVER forget her. She will always be the one person who I felt the strongest about. And no one… could ever replace her.

Because for some reason I’m stuck in “Dwelling on the past mode” again and I can’t get back out… UGH