The first second: you were beautiful, elegant. Like the moon, you were vibrant, but you were also unobtainable. I desired to merely speak to you once.
The first hour: we exchanged words. We actually spoke, and your voice was more enticing than any of Mozart's pieces. Every utterance you made gripped my heart tighter than a boa constrictor's grasp.
The first day: we talked about our lives, our dreams, our philosophies. And every thing you said made me fall for you even harder. I knew you were the one for me.
The first week: you told me about your feelings. You told me you liked me. And, even though it was such an elementary discussion, it made my heart melt. The fact that a girl whom I saw as ideal had any feelings for me was unfathomable.
The first month: we started dating. But, it didn't seem the same. You seemed as though you were losing the feelings you once had. I'm sure that can't be correct though. We're meant to be together. I've never felt this way about anyone, so you should feel this way about me too, right? We'll never be apart because I love you.
The first year: we no longer speak. I see you in the hall, but I merely tilt my head to face the ground. It's hard for me because I can't tell if you ever really cared. I don't know if the "feelings" you had for me were ever really there. So, now, I sit in the dark and ponder. That's all I do. I am no longer a man, but a shell. I am merely an empty, vague shell.
