Too Early, Too Late

him.

I remember the first time I saw her. She was like a delicate flower, beautiful yet fragile, and I couldn't help but feel drawn to her. But as much as I wanted to reach out and pull her into the light, there was always something holding me back, a nagging doubt that whispered in the depths of my mind.

She was always there, on the edges of my world, a silent presence that I couldn't seem to shake. And yet, I never truly saw her, not until it was too late. It wasn't until I received the news of her passing that I realized the depth of my feelings for her, the love that had been there all along, waiting patiently for me to acknowledge it.

But now, as I stand here surrounded by the echoes of her absence, I can't help but feel the crushing weight of regret pressing down on my chest. If only I had seen her sooner, if only I had reached out a little sooner, maybe things would have been different. But now, all I'm left with are the memories of what could have been, a love that was too early for me to understand, too late for me to save her.

And as I sit here, grappling with the ghosts of my past, I can't help but wonder if she knew how much I loved her, how much I still love her, even now that she's gone. If only I could turn back time, if only I could tell her how I feel, maybe then she would still be here, and maybe then, we could have had our happily ever after.

But as the tears fall silently down my cheeks, I know that some things are simply beyond our control. And all I can do now is carry her memory with me, a bittersweet reminder of a love that was both too early and too late.