Stories to tell

But non about us

I love him. Goodness, how I love him. All songs have suddenly become about him. Everything reminds me of him. He is all I can think about, all I dream about. Oh if only those dreams were real. But they are not, He doesn't even know me. All songs are about him, but none are about us. They are about the two of them. But not me, never me. How I wish that just this once it would be me. That I'd be the one holding on to your arm as we walk through the city, that I'd be the one you came home to, the one you would embrace in the kitchen, the one you wake up to, and the person you hold when you fall asleep at night. How I wish that was me in her place. And I know it is absolutely ridiculous. You don't know me, nor do you love me. And logically I should not love you either. But I can not help it. I am drawn to you, and I allow it to happen. Even though I know it will only break my heart further, yet I can not help it. Your timid smile lights up my entire world. Those blue ocean eyes make me want to drown in them. Although I already am. Drowning that is. But not in your eyes. In my own despair. The deep dark void that I can't seem to escape. And the more I love you the deeper I sink. Down, down, down. Until nothing and no one can pull me up. Oh I know I should walk away from this. I should let you go. Let go of the dreams, the irrational hopes. But how? You are literarily perfect in almost every way. There is not a single flaw about you. You are the epitome of my prince charming, the one I have dreamt of ever since I was little. And I am reduced to watch you love her? But it is how it must be. And while you love her I fade away in the background and fade into a mere shadow. All love songs are about you, and in my dream, all songs are about us. But no. No one is about us, no one is about you and me. They are all about you and her. And I am the one on the side. The one who must go one more day without you.