But you weren’t mine to lose.

by Nine

Enchanting were the eyes that were staring at me. How sweet was the gaze that graced me under the moon? I could never fathom how captivating her eyes were.

The first time we met, the sun was scorching. You felt like the breeze I needed that day to cool me off. It was an exchange of “Hellos,” “Sorrys,” and the awkward atmosphere. The casual greetings came to the exchange of songs and proses. You let me into the depths of your mind, an intimacy only you and I both craved.

Under the same sky we lied from dusk until dawn, the stars were witnesses to how much I’d wish your eyes still lit when you’d play the same songs, how your laughter won’t fade, and how tears won’t cascade down your cheeks. How ironic was it that you kept me full of life yet breathless as I bear witness of your presence?

Until one day I found myself mumbling the things I could only hope that the wind would whisper to you as it caresses your beauty. I found myself making you the muse of my words.

“Dear Diary,

I wanted the way her words linger, and I want the way she’d smile when you’re amused. I wish to gatekeep the way she grinned for it’s a sight that I want to have for myself. Yet what good would it be when I kept something so precious hidden away?

I still want to know her weirdest thoughts; I want to untangle the mess of her mind. I want the highs she brought and the lows we saw.”

Yet now all I can do is grieve for something that was never even there.

I may hate how my thoughts speak of your name and I may hate how I immortalize my feelings through my writings. Lest you think that I hate how I feel, I hate it more that I can’t shake what my heart thumps of is something so delicately melancholic.

Now all I have are the remnants of your stares and the memories of your love. Distraught from the idea of what could have been, haunted by the racing thought of what would have been if you could have been mine.

You may have never been mine, but as long as there is salt in the sea, I can wait for a different ending. One wherein we’re both enthralled with the idea of us — one wherein we’re both enchanted, hearts intertwined.

What would it take for me to be disenchanted by you?

Answer is, nothing. I don’t think I even want to — I don’t want to forget how you held my eyes captive with yours.