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Her
Every time I close my eyes, I can see her standing there.
She beckons for me to come closer but, by the time I finally recover from the awe that come with her perfect being, she has turned and faded away into the dusk.
I can still recall the first time I laid my eyes upon her. The butterflies in my stomach flew around as if they were being tormented by a hurricane. My cheeks became flushed and as red as the shirt she wore to symbolize the next chapter of her life.
Lightning struck twice and I had the absolute pleasure of making her acquaintance. Words traveled through the air, and over the course of several moons we became closer than I had ever dreamed to be.
Yet, on that one night, my heart was overpowered by the tyrant that is fear. The fear that someone such as me could not possibly do anything she wanted of me. The fear of rejection which froze my joints in place and slowed the chemical reaction we both shared to a pace of absolute zero.
Now I'm stuck here fighting against the loneliness that comes with trying to bring back the past. Trying to bring back the angel who was the living embodiment of intelligence, humor, generosity, and kindness. The woman for whom being the one who looked utterly breathtaking no matter what she wore or how she chose to carry herself and appear, was only just an added bonus. The one who has scaled the mountains I'm still trying to gain access to. The one who has moved on quickly and quietly.
I lay here silently drowning with a smile on my face so she does not recognize anything is still wrong, she deserves that much.
