Musings

So there's a boy. Well, given that I last saw him twenty years ago, I'm sure he qualifies as a "man" now, but in my headspace, whenever I think of him, which I do from time to time, he's a boy: tall, skinny, beautiful, should be more sure of himself than he really is. And I loved him. Not that he ever knew this. Timing you see; it was never quite right. He had a girlfriend. I got a boyfriend. He got another girlfriend. I messed up and left and never laid eyes on my boy ever again. And whether it's because we never kissed, never made out, never "spoiled" our friendship with messy physical and emotional tangleweed, I've never, ever forgotten him. Perhaps a quick shag in dingy student digs would have put paid to my romantic notions, who knows. There's just a tiny, miniscule part of my heart that wants to believe that one day, one day when we're old perhaps, we'll find each other again and be ready to start what we never did when we were young and gorgeous. Notions eh? Who'd have 'em?