“One night we’ll be lying beneath the stars together.
It will be silent, utterly silent.
The stars will be the only illumination for miles.
And then you’ll turn to me and whisper,
“Finally! We’ve waited so long for this.”
And I’ll just smile, thinking on the truth of your words.
We’ll move closer together and begin to talk.
About our dreams and beliefs.
What our lives have thus far taught us.
We’ll talk the way we had always wanted to.
We’ll be able to actually look into each other’s eyes.
Sense the truth and conviction behind our thoughts.
And then what?
Will we tire of each other?
Its very likely.
Because even the likelihood of that ever happening is slim.
I would be too afraid to be with you that way.
I’m a hopeless romantic.
And I’m guessing that you aren’t.
I pray that you prove me wrong.”
I do miss the way we used to be. And it’s never going to be like that again, but it’s OK. We had it and we lost it. At least we’re still friends.
A part me still thinks I should have gone back to BU.