Whether this be the beginning of a longer story yet to come,
or merely an account of fleeting emotions,
I cannot at this point tell you.
However,

I feel the need to write this down
in order to preserve my feelings
and emotions
in a way in which I will be able to look back upon them
in the years to come
either in utter disappointment,
or in complete captivation of them time and time again.
In either case,

it is not a task I would be able to accomplish at a time later than that which is upon us.
This needs to be written now,
while the wounds are still fresh,
while the flowers still smell sweet.
Our meeting was a fated one,
more timely than I could ever have imagined.
I remember you as you walked around the corner of that dreaded place,
always a smile on your face
and a twinkle in your eye.
I remember the art on your wall that brought us both to astonishment.

How did you know her?
How did I know her?
I remember her speaking of you.
Fanciful picnics,
wonderful feelings.
We even planned a trip together, she and I did.
We were going to take you and him ice-skating.
It never happened.
Instead:
She spent
long nights by the phone,
Waiting, waiting.
A fiasco over books.

To so many people we were familiar faces,
but not to one another.
Not until that day you walked around that corner.

The news of your interest spread fast once we met.
I heard whispers of your imagined affections
before you ever truly began to feel them.
When you approached me, I should have declined your invitation,
but I did not.
In hindsight, I would never do it again.
In a way, I am glad I was so naïve.
I tried to convince you that I was lame and boring.
You didn’t believe me.
For some reason
you thought just the opposite.
It was with your kind I had a problem.
It was your kind I couldn’t stand.
I’m not sure I’ll ever understand how the undedicated antheral mind operates.
However,
that is neither here nor there,
and it is definitely not part of the content I wish to include in this penning.
Our time spent together began innocently enough for both of us,
however different the ways.
On your part, there were no plans of corruption
or ravishment,
as there would have been for many in your shoes.
At least
there didn’t seem to be.
On my part,
I was convinced of simple comradery,
denying all else.