She was one of those girls you only meet once…
I lament as I sit here now in my custom made leather chair, sipping my eighteen year old single malt scotch, overlooking the expanse of the Mediterranean outside the floor to ceiling walls of glass in front of me. In this world where one works hard to accumulate all the luxury money will buy, I still feel empty. Perhaps this is just too cliché; the guy who has made it big still missing the “one who got away”. The funny thing is that I have heard that story before. The girl was perfect, just the timing was off. It always ends up the same way, with the man doing something stupid to get the girl. Ultimately he ends up loosing any chance of having a relationship with her, and in the process destroys all the other relationships he has taken for granted once she invaded his mind.
This type of parasitic love exists for the sake of pure evil. There is nothing productive which can come of it; it is merely a conduit for one to destroy themselves while numbed to all logic.
It starts when I see her picture with him. The guy who is so much like me, but for whatever reason is having all the fun. I try and make my self believe that I will have my time to be happy, but what I have now does not satisfy me like she could. The trips they take together, I take alone. The celebrations they attend together, I always have just one name on the invitation. The pictures they take together, are picture which contain just one face when it is my own. Of course I realize how this sounds, but this is how I heal. I feel the need to write, yet I worry about how these words will be interpreted. Are you keen enough to get what I am saying, or must I be blunt?
You are the type of girl I only will meet once.
But I’ve said that before too, before I met you.
So I know how this ends…