We were never in love.

But oh God, we could have been.

                    We could have been in love when we first met; riding the same yellow bus to school, side by side, sharing laughs and the last bubble-gum in my pack, pretending that the green lights on the road were teleportation devices that made the bus jump from street to street.

We could have been in love right there, when I helped her climb down the steps, with all the other little boys mocking me like grown men while she smiled, beaming at me.

But we were never in love.

 

                    We could have been in love when she had her first heartbreak and I walked her home, my arm around her, giving her the protection and warmth she desired so much from someone else. Someone who cared only for a small part of who she was; who never intended to put the effort she was worth, to tend to her like she needed, her, the strongest and most intelligent girl of them all.

But we were never in love.

 

                    We could have been in love when I went to pick her up at home for prom; dazzling, beautiful, in that simple blue dress. I still remember the smile on her face as I took her by the arm to my old but trustworthy Vespa, her laughs echoing as we drove to the ball.

And I still remember the taste of her lips when I kissed her at the end of the last dance.

But we were never in love.

 

                    We could have been in love when I mourned her father’s death alongside her, giving her what little support I could: a shoulder and empathy.

Because I didn’t need to see or feel her cry to know how she was tore to pieces. I felt her pain even as we stayed behind when all others left, the rain pouring down on us but unable to wash away the pain.

But we were never in love.

                    We could have been in love when she married; and we could have been in love when I married, not long after that. Or when she helped us name our child, and when we did the same for theirs.       

 But we were never in love.

                    We could have been in love when, after we were left alone by those we had shared a life with, I held her hand as I felt her last breath on my cheek.

We could have been in love when she saw the tears running down my old, dry, wrinkled face, and smiled that smile I had know since we were kids riding the same yellow bus while whispering “Maybe in our next lives, my love.”

We were never in love.

But oh god, we could have been.

Copyright © forever-evenaftertheending - Reality

(Source: coltre)

(Source: erinscootch)

(Source: dazedgizer)

(Source: blackyang)

(Source: infinimorr)

adorability:

I love when you become so close with someone that you can see parts of each other in one another and you begin to say the same things and steal lines from one another and have a similar sense of humor and can exchange an inside joke with just a glance you don’t even have to talk because you have such a strong connection with them and you can sit in comfortable silence but also talk for hours it’s really hard to find that kind of compatibility

(Source: paid2shoot)

(Source: r-a-v-e-n-a)

(Source: t-hunderstruck)