I can’t blame her for how I feel. I let my guard down,
knowing what I could have had back then, but blew it, knowing now I would never
have become “the one,” her insatiable need never able to be fulfilled by
someone like me, always a temporary arrangement, my back just another rung on a
ladder to someone else, a stepping stone; a man like me needs to learn his
place in her world or have no place.
I still see her face when I close my eyes, as vivid now as
when she sat across from me, forbidden fruit, dangerous but tempting, yet
always just out of reach.
I can’t blame her for stoking up this fire in me, when I
laid the kindling there first, desperate for the right match to set me ablaze,
as she ultimately did, she more than just another face in the crowd, someone
filled with a potency I could not resist, but should have, and even now, thinking
if I had kept to that high road, I might have retained my place, if not as
lover, then maybe a friend, and now, thinking, it might have been enough
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