An unopened envelope lays on my dresser,
One from years ago,
It brings back so many memories,
The pain associated with it,
And the regrets.
I remember when I first wrote it,
Wracking my brain for hours on end,
Taking care to write as beautifully as I possibly could,
A hundred crumpled papers which I threw out,
Just to complete the one I eventually didn’t have the courage to show her.
It now serves as a reminder,
Of the chance that I didn’t take,
I rewind back to the high school days,
When we were both young,
That surreal day,
How she whispered she wanted me to write her a letter,
And though her lips were straight,
And her eyes didn’t gleam mischievously,
I still can’t figure out,
Whether or not she was serious,
And though we never spoke of it again,
I remember it so vividly,
I probably should have pinched myself,
Was all of it just a dream?
The day since which,
I haven’t seen her the same way again,
I used to be so comfortable around her,
We laughed and joked,
When she touched my shoulder while laughing,
It never bothered me before.
But all that changed,
In an instant,
I remember that scene as though it was yesterday,
When she caught me off guard,
I zoned out,
Stuttering and not trusting myself to speak,
I just stared back at her blankly.
And though I wrote it all out,
My newly formed feelings for her,
I was still too nervous to actually give it to her,
I made excuses,
Kept pushing it off for later,
Until finally I ran out of days to postpone,
She waved me goodbye,
One last time,
Probably still unaware of everything I held within me.
That was years ago,
She’s somewhere on the other side of the world,
I only have those memories to remember her by,
The regrets which I’m forced to hold dear,
And her smile I reminisce so fondly,
While she may have forgotten about me,
After putting me in such an uncomfortable position,
She’s probably out there without the slightest bit of realization.
I coax myself to go to sleep,
But to no avail,
It’s the same every night,
Lost in her thoughts,
I’m too embarrassed to admit,
The number of times I think of her,
In the mornings while brushing my teeth,
Looking at my pitiful reflection,
It became a routine,
I often wonder,
If this pain is self-inflicted,
If things would be different,
Had I just been a bit braver?
All I have,
Is that white paper,
Sitting by the dresser,
To remember her by.
That had I given years ago,
At least my chest,
Would now be lighter.
The worst thing that could happen,
I’d be shot down,
And even so,
At least I’d have a definitive answer,
Something that eludes me today.
While I stay lost in her thoughts,
It all starts to make sense,
I slowly begin to realize,
That the difference between,
And a loser,
Is of just one letter.