You Never Learn

By Da Vinci at Work

YOU. Yeah you. Who else could I be talking to?

Yeah, that's right. I'm talking to you.

Why, woman? Why? Why in the world did you not act when you had the chance? You let him slip away, out of your sight, out of your life. One a million, that's what he was. And don't you dare deny it, woman.

What? Because he wasn't your type? That's bullshit, and you know it. You have no type. And who the hell came up with the word type to begin with?

Because you knew he had no feelings for you, because you had heard him denying his feelings for you way back when when you overheard him talking to his friend that time in December? What for? The last time I checked, feelings weren't frozen in time. They can grow, you know. Like trees and birds and flowers and zebras and parasites and marsupials. And feelings. Feelings can grow. They can blossom and bloom and overcome the size of the universe for all we know.

After all, we're only human.

What now, you say? Because he was too good for you? Too nice? Too kind? Too chivalrous? An eye for an eye, woman. If he can do something, you can do better…or, was I so completely wrong about you?

Go get a grip on yourself. You know why you let him go. You know exactly why, and there isn't a reason from heaven down to middle earth why you should have believed your own mind's doing in the first place.

Girl, you were a coward. A cowardly, frightened, spineless, pusillanimous creature. An introvert. A self-proclaimed hermit.

Yeah. That's what you were.

Too shy for your own good. You regret it now, don't you? You regret every last atom and molecule of your stupid decision. You should have went with your heart, but your head, your stupid, practical head intercepted the call. Am I not right? Am I then wrong?

You regret not telling him how infinite you felt, when he asked to sit right next to you when every other table was practically vacant in the library. You regret not telling him how much that silly, dimpled smile made you feel, how the butterflies came in swarms, in heaps, taking over the contents of your stomach. You regret not giving him your confession note that Valentine's Day after rewriting it more than fifty times throughout the course of the month. Writing, erasing, adding, writing, erasing, adding, until it all became as close to perfection as you could make it. But no, you had to crumple it up and flush it down the toilet, along with your courage and hopes.

You were ashamed, frightened that he would laugh at your childish attempts to get the message across. You regret not being able to say those three silly words, starting with I and ending with u. You regret that day when you couldn't think of what to say to him when he tried to make a decent conversation with you, right in the middle of the hallway. Where everyone was watching.

You regret it all.

When the next time he comes by, what will you do? Will you shy away into the shadows, trying to obliterate yourself from his vision, his reality, his world again? Will you again be too embarrassed to casually stroll up to him and strike up even the most desperately unintuitive of conversations?

"Hey, remember me? We used to go to the same school together."

What if he doesn't? What if he doesn't remember? What if he thinks you're a stranger whose lost a few bolts in the noggin and gone a bit haywire? What if his memory of you, of him, of you and him and all the times you spent together, evades him?

What if...?

The next time you head on down to the library, will you feel that same emptiness, that noticeably empty seat where he used to sit, right beside you, even when all other tables and chairs in the library were practically vacant? Right next to you, piercing into your heart, causing that explosion of butterflies to erupt and flip your insides out. A fountain of emotions waiting to erupt.

Even if he will never come back, even if you will probably never see him ever again, will you wait for him? Will you save his seat in that library right next to you, for him? Will you wait for that moment, wait for when he comes up behind you, wait for when he taps you on your shoulder and opens his mouth, and wait for those simple words that started that exciting roller coaster ride of emotions and that feeling that all the happiness in the world belonged to you?

"Hey, remember me? We used to go to the same school together."