That Boy

March 12, 2012
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When I saw him standing there, so many years ago,
my eyes flit past him as if he didn’t exist.
I was oblivious.

That boy
with the thick hair
that I wanted to just run my fingers through all day long.
That boy
in the soccer uniform
and crooked smile.
The quick moment his dark eyes looked into mine
from across the room,
I knew I wanted him.
That boy
with the dimple in his right cheek.
That boy
in the silk tie and big loafers.
That boy
who was awkwardly cute.
I could chant his name as music,
sweet, melodic, consoling while I fall asleep.
He was,
he is mine.

Then,
things changed . . .
He grew up.
And he stopped speaking to me with his gentle smiles.
And he stopped giving me those cute, little winks when he knew I was looking.
And he stopped noticing me as I walked down the hallway.
Now that I finally loved him,
He had moved on.

When he saw me standing there, so many years ago,
his eyes flit past me as if I’d never existed.





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