Have you ever loved someone you desperately wanted, but couldn’t have? It’s so bittersweet. I love my husband. I love him more now than I did in the beginning. But, somehow, I fell for her too.
I clicked with her. She touched a part of my soul that I didn’t even know existed. I wish I could have known her touch, and the taste of her skin. I wish I could hear the sounds she makes.
I know that will never happen. It can’t happen. But sometimes, I let my imagination wander. I can go anywhere there. I can let my mind imagine.
I see the pictures of her smile, and just wish that I could see her smiling at me. I wish I could hear her laugh, I would absolutely love to watch a Dolphins game with her.
I know that none of that will ever happen. I know what the reality is. But it doesn’t stop me from wishing.
It kills me to know that she was so close to me when I lived in Miami. She actually worked right across the street from where I worked. What if I had met her then? I mentioned that to her one time. She told me I wouldn’t have liked her then.
What would have happened if I met her in my 20s? I was in my mid 40s when I met her online. I didn’t even know she was a she. I liked talking to her the rare times she did speak to me. I was shocked when she messaged me to inform me that she was a female.
I’m not in love with her anymore. I let go of those thoughts. But I do love her still. I always will. Part of me will always wonder about how differently my life could have gone if I had met her sooner.
I shouldn’t even be writing about her. She’s very private. But sometimes, I just need to say something. I know I’m a mess of a human being. I can’t help the way I feel. It’s funny how being ignored by someone else makes me angry, but I understand her silence.
I don’t know why fate brought her into my life. But I do know that I’m a better person for knowing her. I got to know her after I came out as bisexual. She answered my questions, and taught me some things.
She is a friend to me. I wish it could be more, but it never can. She was my muse. I wrote short stories because she inspired them. I haven’t written one in awhile, I don’t have the heart for it anymore.
She changed my life. I look at her pictures, and I’m just amazed that I clicked with such an amazing woman. I’m happy to be her friend.