Last week, it was the girl with long brown hair and eyes like the sky. With skin clearer than water, she was perfect in too many ways. Her laughter trilled down the hall, sending nausea to my stomach but only for a second. She liked the attention, but she was too caught up in the opinions of others to see the beauty you contain.
This week it’s the girl with brush strokes of blonde falling from her scalp. Her voice carries hints of confidence as she speaks to you like it’s nothing. She consumes your time. With a smile like the sun and eyes like the Atlantic. Her and I are nothing alike, and maybe the two of you are too similar to ever be a perfect match.
Next week it may be a new girl. I suppose it’ll be the tall girl in the Sophomore class who has a body like a model, with horse-like hair and big brown eyes. You seem to stare at her a lot, and anyone can see she’s stunning. She plays soft fades of lullabies on a polished violin and somehow gets more beautiful every time you look at her.
Your habit of getting attached to people always seems to leave you hurting, but you let it happen anyway. It still surprises me to look back to the times when you spent more than just a week giving me your affection. At this point, I can’t remember if it was a dream or not.
One day, one of these girls will start to see in you what I saw in you so long ago, and when that day comes, I imagine your clothes won’t smell like your own anymore, and the hands that used to fit perfectly with mine will fit with someone else’s. I just hope that whoever this girl is will give you more of a chance than I ever did.