In retrospect.

Maybe I wasn't ready yet. Maybe I wasn't over Jeremy yet, it had only been a month or two since he'd left. Maybe I was still too young, still too naive, still too damaged, too selfish, too unclear and unseeing. I didn't know myself very well back then, nor did I know much of what I was doing, or what my actions meant to you. I was rather blind back then. Or maybe it wasn't meant to be just yet. Perhaps we were meant to wait a little while, wait for a new kind of understanding.

Or maybe, maybe I was just scared. Scared to let someone in, scared to get close to anyone, scared to be left behind or ignored or taken for granted. Scared that you might leave like Jeremy left. Scared that I wasn't really worth all that much, scared to be proven right. Absolutely terrified and unwilling to admit it. Perhaps that was why I never took the chance to try.

Too selfish to understand when I had something good. I've had to grow up quite a bit since then, I feel eight years older than I ought to be. But then, you needed to grow up as well, didn't you? You've matured since then. I can see that. You've grown up, and it looks good on you. I can admit that now, I suppose.

You bring a smile to my face even while I'm still wondering whether there will ever be anything between us. Even when I'm sad as hell at the prospect of never seeing you again, you still make me a little bit happier. When I'm tired and wallowing in self-pity, you make me want to be happy, just to see that glint in your eyes. And you try to cheer me up, do little things to make me smile. I can see that. I just worry that it's not only me you think about. I worry that I'm not the one.

I find myself wondering if I will still know you in ten years. If I will remember you, or if we will still be friends, or even something more. I just read a book about the afterlife, I wonder about my own, if I even believe in that sort of thing. Will I get a flashback of my entire life and see you when we were 'young,' and wonder what happened to you, if you're happy wherever you ended up in life, if you still thought about me? Will I ever publish a book and have that knowledge, deep within my heart, that somewhere, you might see it, recognize my name, and smile to remember that silly young girl you once knew.

Tears come to my eyes now, I suppose that's only fitting. This is starting to feel more like a farewell letter, now, which wasn't what I intended. I only hope it's a beginning, not an end. A beginning. I hope you're there to give me inspiration for my stories, and be the only reason I ever write a poem about love. I hope you're the first to read my book, and the first to hold me together when I feel like I'm crumbling and falling apart. I hope you're there. I hope that I'm not wishing, that I'm not grasping at nothing, and imagining just another story. I hope you're not just someone I'll remember in the years to come.

I want to travel to Ireland and Australia with you, and everywhere else combined. I want you by my side when I marvel at the crumbling ruins of ancient castles, enduring and powerful even when broken. I want you there, I want you here. I don't want to forget, or give up.

Or do I wish for too much?
_____

It's not much longer now - he gets the note in 5 days (not what I've written above). He's been coming to my locker between classes, we talk. He's got the best eyes - they're hazel, but I usually only see them when they're green. I always wanted to fall for a guy with green eyes. He gets his hair cut this weekend. I wonder how he will look.

I've been losing weight these past couple months. I wonder if he's noticed. I'm proud of myself, though. I'm very proud.

And if next week is the last week I'll ever see him for the rest of my life, I know I'll cry.