The Last Stroke

To That Girl Who Never Stayed

TO THAT GIRL WHO NEVER STAYED

I am writing this for the girl, the one and only girl, who never stayed.

I am writing this for the girl, the only girl I loved besides my mom and my sister, who did not held onto my outstretched hand.

I am writing this for the girl, the same girl whose smile makes my heart melt, because she has given me a reason to leave the door unlocked, and the windows unlatched.

Who knows right?

The girl I am writing for?

She loves adventure and never shy away from misadventures.

She is the same girl who dragged me at twelve midnight to throw rocks at our snotty school principal's window.

I am still hoping that she would venture into my backyard and find the opened doors and unlatched windows.

I am hoping that she would tip toe silently across the living room, and to her right she would notice a slightly opened door.

She would peek inside, careful not to make any noise. And she would see me there, lying on my stomach, elbows propped against my bed.

I waited.

With a smile on my lips and tears from my eyes.

But she never came. I told myself I would not cry.

I almost forgot. I am already crying.

And you know what my mom told me?

She told me this, "Leo, why wait for her? She never came, did she?"

And I remembered.

She was never there. She never was and never will be.

I am writing this for the girl, to the girl I fell in love with, the same girl who never stayed.

I am writing this for the girl, the same girl I will someday fall out of love with, to the girl who never were and never will be mine.

To Holly.

I love you.

From Leo.

 Artwork by Gianlorenzo Bernini I Apollo and Daphne