You Could Have Had Her

January 18, 2014
You could have had her. You could have chosen her in that split second.
When we had walked past you on our way to get Chinese food, you didn’t have to stop. You did, though. That was your choice. You smiled at me.
“Hey,” you said in your almost too incredibly sexy voice to be believable. “Where’ve you been, Atley?” you asked me. You looked me over with a devilish smile that no girl could ever possibly resist. You were consistently adorable, even as you saw my friend, Grace, stuffing her face with a few florescent yellow lays chips.
Her mouth hung agape. (Gasp! How could someone so attractive know Atley? Much less converse with her?!) I was just as shocked as she, because here you were standing in front of me. Eyeing me like you would a beautiful girl, as I stood by a friend who will always and forever be ranked above me in the unfair scale of beauty.
You could have had her.
You could have kept walking.
You could have done anything other than eye me the way you did. You could have kept that devilish smile to yourself, tucked away in your jean pocket for use of later ammunition against your upcoming female target.
You didn’t, though. You stopped. You talked to me. You dragged your beautiful eyes down my slim torso and awkward hips and you smiled as if you were looking at a pretty girl.
You had me believing I was a pretty girl.
You could have told me then that you were only using me to get closer to her, my open mouthed, shocked friend whose beauty still astounds me daily. Her with wavy, ribbon blonde curls that slowly turn to burgundy. Her with gorgeous green eyes flecked with gold. Her with the clear skin. Her with the big boobs and confidence to wear whatever the hell she pleases.
You could have had her.
You didn’t though. You made me believe I was pretty. Wow, was I fooled. You took everything from me.
I was wet sand that you so carefully picked up. I molded to your hand, became used to you as you whispered sweet reminiscent, “I love you”’s. You told me how unique those speckles of fool’s gold were in me. You told me you loved me. I told you I loved you back. Then, once I dried and became of no interest to you, you lengthened your fingers from one another. I fell through the cracks of fingers that I had grown so accustomed to, and you tried to pick up my sea shell beauty of a friend to replace me.
You could have had her before you picked me up!
Maybe that’s why I’m gasping for breath now in between bitter sobs, because I have wasted so many I love you’s on someone who never meant them initially. It takes a chunk out of your lung, this one-sided love thing.
“I love you.” Gasp.
“I love you.” Gasp.
“I love you.” Breathe.
“I love you.” Breathe.
“I love you.” Everything.
“I love you.” Gasp.
“I love you.” Is going to be.
“I love you.” Breathe.
“I love you.” Ok.
“I love you.” Breathe.
Just breathe. Funny advice for a girl that’s drowning in her own tears to give, huh? I knew you’d be my first heartbreak, but little did I know that this was an unrequited love affair. I thought you saw the beauty in my eyes just as I saw it in yours.
Boy, was I fooled.
“I love you.” Breathe.
Boy, did you have me wrapped around your finger.
“I love you.” Gasp.
Boy, you took everything.
“I love you.” Breathe.
Girl, aren’t you stupid?


“I love you.”
Girl, aren’t you naïve?
“I love you.”
Girl, aren’t you silly?
“I love you.”
Girl, don’t you see?
“I love you.”
Girl, you are beautiful.
“I love you.”
Girl, everything will be alright.
“I love you.”
Girl, you are not sand.
“I love you.”
Girl, take a deep breath.
“I love you.”
Girl, sometimes you just need to say,
“I love myself too.”





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This article has 3 comments. Post your own now!

AloineHeart said...
Oct. 28, 2014 at 2:52 pm
My god, i am speechless  
 
AndSoItGoes01 replied...
Mar. 31, 2015 at 1:49 am
Thank you. I was just looking through my old stuff and this meant the world to me.
 
LillyZ83This teenager is a 'regular' and has contributed a lot of work, comments and/or forum posts, and has received many votes and high ratings over a long period of time. said...
Feb. 1, 2014 at 9:35 am
I love it! I especially love how poetic it is about the "Wet sand" that he could mold in his hands, that "dried up" so he lost his desire, so he went and picked up the "sea shell" of a friend... very poetic!
 
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