WeepingFlower17

He was sweet,

And handsome,

And fun.

But loving him turned me into a monster.

Somebody I didn't recognize,

And didn't want to be.

I tried so hard to find myself,

Only to realize

I have changed,

And everybody sees it.

I don't smile as much,

Or laugh nearly as hard.

Now that you're gone,

And elegant like a woman.

He was crude-humored like a little boy,

But sometimes I wonder,

You're the last person I would ever judge or turn away from.

I love to hear you talk more than I love to hear my favorite song,

Or ride my bike,

Or watch the sunset.

Always my ears will be open to you, and I'm happy to sit any listen to anything you want to talk about.

Record stores

Dusty books

Vintage clothes

The color orange

Electric guitars

Band stickers

Writing

Performing arts

Record players

Vinyl

Handwritten letters

Bad singing

Graphic tees

Folk songs

Comedy movies

Secrets

Inside jokes

The sky at sunset

Bracelets

His eyes are focused on mine, and our worlds stop as the one around us continues to move.

I know what he's thinking.

I can see it in his face.

We stare for a minute more before sheepishly turning back to the conversations we were both having. Everything goes on as if nothing happened between us in the first place.