I often asked myself why did you love her instead. I think now after all these years I know. She became a dream you couldn't touch. A lovely thought you never got to finish.
It was easy to love her in secret. Easy to pretend she was yours when she never would be.
So when you did finally have her, she fell right through your fingers like a violent waterfall you were dying to catch.
She fiddled with the idea of loving you, while you loved the version of her you held in your heart.
And where do I fit into the equation? Mostly on the sidelines, always loving you from far away places. Constantly fighting those demons who plant you in my mind when I try to forget.
And then at times, wishing I was her to know what it's like for you to be in love with me.