I stand here hopelessly, with nothing but confusion in my eyes and a dandelion held tight in between my hands. I stare at you from a distance, thinking, "We were meant to be", although it, as what I'm seeing now, can never happen.
I remember in kindergarten, when we first met on the playground, you would push me on the swings so that I could finally touch the skies and feel the wind in my hair, like I always wanted to do on my own. When I told you to go away, you carelessly ran behind me, disappearing from my life. Within 5 minutes, you returned with a freshly picked yellow dandelion in your hand. You reached it out to me with a wide smile and said, "We were meant to be."
I remember in fifth grade, after you followed me home from school, you rode your bike past my house waving crazily at me. Annoyed, I turned around and entered the door. Within 5 minutes, you came back to my house, ringing the doorbell rapidly until I answered. "I can't find my way home, " you said with an innocent look. After I helped you locate your house, you faced me closely. With a wide smile, you said, "We were meant to be," and gazed around the grass, looking for something that I couldn't quite determine. "Whatcha looking for?" I blurted out as you began to kneel down and scurry the grass. You got up, brushing away the dirt on your jeans and ran into the house. I watched, through the screen door, as you charged out the back side of your house, reaching down to pluck a dandelion from the ground. You came back out the front, reaching it out to me and repeated, "We were meant to be."
I remember in eighth grade, after you had found where my locker was, you slipped a bright yellow note into it. I watched you from down the hall and decided to scare you away. When I darted up to you, yelling, you ran away, just like you did in kindergarten when I told you to leave. I hurriedly opened my locker, curious to see what the note said, "We were meant to be." After 5 minutes, of ripping the note into pieces, you showed up behind me with a bright yellow dandelion in your hand. You reached it out to me with a wide smile and said, "We were meant to be."
I remember last week, when I introduced you to my boyfriend, you followed us the whole day at the mall. You vanished after we sat down for lunch. But within 5 minutes, you returned with a handful of freshly picked dandelions, and with words and a smile that I knew so well, you repeated for the last time, "We were meant to be." As I took the cluster of flowers and carelessly threw them to the floor, I watched the last remains of you vanish through the exit that led into millions of different directions.
Now, however, I stand here at this very moment, with nothing but confusion in my eyes and a dandelion held tight in between my hands. In full regret, I gaze at you and your new girlfriend, sharing a smile, a laugh, and dandelion. I stare at you from a distance, thinking, "We were meant to be", although it, as what I'm seeing now, can never happen.