I carry this around with me, in my pocket, to every tournament, hoping that someday, one day, I would get a chance to try to give it to its rightful owner. The girl I wanted to have it. The girl who stole my heart the second I saw her and sheltered it away more and more, every day since, whether she knew it or not. Or even cared that she did. Most regretfully, I realize, once and for all, my chance is now gone. Perhaps there really never was one.
I admit, I do stupid things sometimes. Perhaps getting my hopes up that someday I would have a chance to meet you was one of them. But falling for you certainly wasn’t.
I am in love with you, Heidi. Since the day that I first saw you. I guess that’s painfully obvious.
I guess I see now from your friends’ reactions, and from yours, that maybe it was all a joke, from the beginning. I guess maybe you were offended the whole time, waiting for the day my heart would break apart and never recover.
I won’t apologize for liking you. Life’s too short to apologize for caring about someone. You shouldn’t have to apologize for caring about someone.
I like animals and sunsets and laughing and dreaming, and you. Not necessarily in that order. I’m sorry that you found that offensive. I’m sorry to have offended you.
I dreamed a dream in times gone by
When hope was high and life worth living
I dreamed, that love would never die
I dreamed that God would be forgiving
Then I was young and unafraid
And dreams were made and used and wasted
There was no ransom to be paid
No song unsung, no wine untasted
But the tigers come at night
With their voices soft as thunder
As they tear your hope apart
As they turn your dream to shame
She slept a summer by my side
She filled my days with endless wonder
She took my childhood in her stride
But she was gone when autumn came
And still I dream she’ll come to me
That we will live the years together
But there are dreams that cannot be
And there are storms we cannot weather
I had a dream my life would be
So different from this hell I’m living
So different now from what it seemed
Now life has killed the dream
–Alain Albert Boublil, Claude Michel Schonberg, Herbert Kretzmer, Jean Marc Natel