I met her in seventh grade
It wasn’t just her beauty
that surpassed, in my eyes,
anyone who had yet
walked the halls
beside me
It was also
her kindness,
her sweetness,
her friendship
extended
to my small,
awkward self
She was my type
but I wasn’t hers
Or perhaps
I was just
too shy to ever
say I wanted
anything more
than her friendship
Maybe I could
have dated
her then
Maybe my self-doubt
was the only thing
that stopped me,
but I have
enough self-doubt left
to doubt it
Thoughts of her
never left
as we made
our way through
the remaining years
of middle
and high school
Even through
the glaring looks
of the bully
she dated instead
We crossed paths again,
as lives sometimes do,
several years
and children later
She was the perfect
girl for me then,
I didn’t have
the slightest doubt
of that certainty,
but she isn’t
the perfect girl
for me now
I don’t know
if she has changed,
though how could you
live thirty-two years
and not have change
fall upon you?
But I know
with full clarity
that I have changed,
that I am not
that twelve-year old boy
longing for
her attention
any longer
I am not even the
young adult I was
when I left that school
after a thirteen-year
progression towards
a cap and a gown
I may not even be
who I was yesterday
The unattainable desire
of my twelve-year old eyes
would not make
my heart soar today
Sometimes the shattered
dreams of childhood
are better left behind,
though you couldn’t have
convinced me at the time
21 Nov 2018
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