When I needed inspiration, you told me to write about a “moment.” You told me to write about the intangibleness of time, and how you’re granted one opportunity to make something amazing happen. That once a moment passes, it never comes back.
And the first moment that came to mind, was you. How we met and the connection we made was so sudden yet so massive. How things just hadn’t gone the way I intended them to in my life, and then you came along. Maybe it was wrong of me to hinge so much hope on one person. Especially when we only got into the talking and dating phase and never became “official.”
You told me to write about a “moment,” and I remembered the night you invited me over. And you kissed me. The first kiss I’d ever had in 24 years – which sounds pathetic for a man, but even still – and the sweetest lips I’d ever tasted. You fell asleep in my arms that night. I felt like I was holding you too tightly, but I wanted to hold you so close to me that you wouldn’t want to let ME go.
You told me to write about a “moment.” I remember the very moment you started doubting me and my potential to make you happy. It hurt that you weren’t willing to give me a chance. Though in my mind, I knew I was undeserving, in my heart, I wanted to fight for you. I believed in the possibility of us and I thought we were destined to be great.
I remember just a month ago, when your birthday weekend came along. At the time, you were so frustrated with me, you said you didn’t want me around. So I told you I’d be in town regardless, just in case. I tried to make plans with you, but you shut them down, so I thought you didn’t want to see me anymore. The day of your birthday celebration, you called me after and said, “This is over.” I recalled the times I didn’t call, the times I was angry and frustrated with you but never said anything at all because I thought you’d think me “weak.” In THAT “moment,” I broke. I tried to make up for it sending you flowers, but it wasn’t enough.
You told me to write about a “moment” and now I’m writing about you. You and I and what we had lasted all of three months. Maybe I invested too much of me in you. I didn’t think you were “the one.” I hadn’t known you long enough for that. What I DID think, is that if you kept me around long enough, I’d prove to you that I could be good to you… that we could be great together.
You told me to write about a “moment”. You were the happiest moment I’ve had in a long time. I wish I could write you back into my life.