A Passing Thought

Apt

- Often doing something and likely to do it again.


I can not help but be amazed at how beautiful she is. It wasn't the kind of beauty that is shown from external appearances, but the kind of beauty that a masterpiece strikes into the soul and leaves a new perspective on smaller details.

Her eyes are beautiful; when she is with me I can see so much more.

Her ears are beautiful; I can listen to what I couldn't have before.

Her hands are beautiful; I feel touched by the small things in life.

Her smile is beautiful; I can get through the difficult strife.

Her braces are beautiful; I’m supported by her when she straightens out the wrongs in the world.

She is beautiful; I never thought I would be so lucky enough to be able to befriend such a wonderful girl.

I feel a pulsing feeling inside me. This girl I'm looking at before me is making my heart race faster and faster. The small things I've shared with her may be insignificant to her and to other people but they are sentimental to me. She is the prologue of my life. Each day is a page. Each event is a chapter. Each year is a novel. Life is my author. Fate is my critic. I've had some good reviews before. Some bad ones as well. But no matter how horrible the review I can't stop and tear up the pages. I can't give up and start a new story. I can't toss it aside and forget about it.

Why?

So often that question has been repeated in my head. Why do I feel that my day is incomplete without telling her goodnight? Why do I feel a hint of jealousy when she talks about other guys? Why am I afraid to lose something that isn't even mine? Is it because I'm so foolish to believe I may actually stand a chance? Because I blindly believe I am worth to have a significant other? Because I'm always praying and making wishes for it to be my turn for a fairy tale story? I always wanted to be the knight in shining armor but now I see myself as the nuisance that brings everything down.

I’m not smart. I’m not funny. I’m not handsome or cute. I have no set of skills. My personality is lame. I have a stuttering problem. I’m poor. I can’t do anything right. There are other boys out there that are much better than I am. I should be happy and support her with whatever her decision is because I’m her friend. But it is difficult because I wonder if that is all I will ever be.