Touch Stone

I think of you every now and then, when I'm reminded of you.

Sometimes when it rains I remember sharing an umbrella with you,

Running to the college from wherever it is we sat talking,

Almost late to class because we lost track of the time.

Sometimes someone says something that is so quintessentially you,

And I have to hold in my smile.

I think about you when I read my books,

Maybe that's why I don't read so much anymore.

I think about you when I write in my diary,

Because I have two diaries filled with your name.

That's why I don't write as much anymore.

I'm happy now, though.

I don't know if you'd believe me,

I don't know if you ever believed in happiness.

I never believed in it when I was around you,

All I felt was the need to impress you, to be your friend,

To be SOMEONE to you. I failed though.

But I still think about you sometimes.

I wonder if you see me online, see my photos,

What do you think, how do you feel;

And then I'll realize, all of a sudden,

You don't really care, you never did.

That's the sad part though.

I made you a touch stone in my life once,

A marker, a monument.

And I was nothing but a bystander to you,

Inconsequential, forgettable.

I was barely a word in your story,

And you were an entire book in mine.

My Life, Part 9: He never loved me back.

That was you.

It will always be you, my first love, my first heartbreak,

My white pickett fence.