We had seen each other countless times before we ever even touched. You, tall (very tall, actually), dark, and utterly handsome. Me, looking for my next bad decision.
I had no idea you were spoken for, and you never enlightened me. I wondered why you shied away from pictures, why you only showed up at your convenience. Did I question you? No. The time in my life when you made your appearance was not a space of inquisition on my part.
You were larger than life. In every way. But your performance… well. Shit, you only ever cared about your own gratification. And I TRIED. I burned to turn you into more, left with nothing every time.
You kept me captive with small gifts, tinn promises. But… you never really delivered. When I found out about her, I tried to cut ties. But you wouldn’t accept that. You showed up at my work, at my door. Always asking for more while giving nothing.
I’m not sure when I grew out of wanting you. I’m not sure you ever really noticed. I’m not sure it even matters. You were never really mine, but your photos always captivated me.
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