To all the Older women I loved

Kind love

I'd just gotten to the opposite side of town, and although though it was new, she seemed familiar. I gave her a wave, and she took my hand and led me to where I needed to go.
I told myself we should avoid her since I knew how foolish I was, yet I inevitably found myself at her door every morning.
I used to imagine that these emotions would pass quickly until I saw her with her hair down. She broke through the layers of my soul and touched my heart as if she were a beam of sunshine. All I could think of was her.
That Sunday morning was when I realised there would be no way for her to be mine, and I was in for another disaster.
She was told that she looked amazing,by a friend so I slipped in, "You look so beautiful." I couldn't help but imagine all the things I would love to do together, and at first I wanted to take her pictures, have her number, and everything. I had to be very sceptical, but she continued talking, and I couldn't look her in the eye because she was so beautiful. She kept touching my face, my hands, and my shoulder, and she kept explaining things to me that I didn't want to know, but all I wanted was to hear her beautiful voice more. I just wanted to get wild, grab her neck, and taste her tempting lips. Only if she understood how she makes me mindless; in her presence, I can't think clearly.
She visited me later that evening, and when I asked if I may snap pictures of her, she agreed. When I took her photos, I still couldn't believe someone could have such a stunning smile and such outstanding looks. I could never get my fantasies to stop whenever I looked at her.
I crossed my fingers that she wouldn't tell me about Xender after I promised to transfer the pictures to her phone, but she disappeared when someone started looking for her. When I saw her again, she requested for her images, I informed her I didn't have her phone number ,she asked for mine and sent a hello .
Stupid me neglected to email the pictures right away, and she texted me to remind me. To be honest, I guess I wanted her to remind me so I could have more conversations with her. I sent the pictures, and we talked for a few minutes, having short talks before saying good night.I kept asking myself during our text exchange whether she was as happy as I was or if I was just another bee in her hive, but I decided that talking to her was more than enough to make me happy.
I think I slept well that night, I was so happy that day.
Over the next few days, I basically made sure to see her whenever I had any free time. Merely observing her smile and hearing her talk was enough to brighten my day.
She is the most hospitable person I have ever met; even though she didn't know much about me, she was kind and treated me as like she was an expert.
To be honest, she didn't know my name for a while until one day when she asked me, "meanwhile, what is your name?"
We kept checking in on each other informally for a while, until one day when we were conversing, I learnt that she was hurt and that she would never return to her children's father. I said I was sorry for bringing up painful memories for her. I gave her a hug and a firm grip, assuring her that I would always be by her side.
I was first incensed—how could that piece of garbage have injured such a beautiful woman?—but as I realised I had a chance to win her heart and understood I wasn't the only one who thought she was attractive, it gave me more courage. When I realised I might have more competition than I had imagined, sadness overcame me.
After learning about her favourite snacks, I made sure to sneak her one every day. I occasionally offered her chocolate, her favourite yoghurt, her favourite fruits, and many other goodies. All I needed to start my day was a punch from her embrace; all I wanted to see was her gorgeous smile.
It was sufficient to occasionally be close to her because she was enigmatic, a kind of precious creature I could never attain. I didn't want more, but once my heart broke, I started to feel more and wanted to be nearer to her.
I had to confront my worst fears, experienced anxiety, and felt jealous when anyone got close to the lovely lady who I loved but who was never gonna fall in love with me , and it wasn't her fault either.
We were never on the same page, so the more I yearned for her, the more it hurt me. I remember the first time she said, "I love you," it was a slippery slope into the friend zone; the next thing I knew, she was calling me bestie—a word I knew I would hear over and over again, and I knew we would never be more than just a imagination .