I'm such a coward.

You know that saying, when you're trying to decide to do something? Will you regret it later if you don't? Would you be able to live with yourself? Could you wake up tomorrow and never look back on that choice you made?

I know in my heart I'll regret this, but I'm so big of a coward to do anything about it. I think that's worse than the regret.

Let me lay it down to you like this. Pretend there's this guy, okay? You're dream guy. He's tall, handsome, blonde, blue eyed...or I guess, however you want this guy to be. You've known him since third grade. Once, you were best friends. Then he moved. And you saw him only once or twice a year. But through all that, you still loved him. With his messed up family, and moodswings on wether you were good enough to be his friend, you still loved him.

But you don't talk about him to you're friends anymore. When they knew him, he was a mousy little freckled buck-tooth kid. They don't understand or care to understand you're true feelings about him. And now, as he is nearly seven years gone from that school and that friend group, they think you're obsessed when you talk about him. Even when he appears in you're dreams, you don't talk about him.

Now it's been nearly two years since you last saw him. You're body still tenses up when you hear his name, because his name is peculiar and you know there's probably no one in you're city that has his name. Well, except him, of course. When you see a new picture of him of Facebook you're heart skips a beat. You stare at his picture for hours, wishing you knew him better.

In all honesty, maybe you don't know him anymore. You don't know his favorite band, who his friends are, or what he eats for breakfast in the morning. You wish you did.

And when you see he has a girlfriend (one of many, they never last long. You wonder if that would be you, his two week girlfriend if you still talked), you feel like crying. Sometimes you do. You stalk their girlfriends, and wonder what she has that you don't? And you feel jealous. You know they don't know him like you do. You were the one that he came to with his problems. You were the one that heard him crying and comforted him when no-one else was there, when you walked into something you weren't supposed to hear. You were the one that never gave up on him, even when he gave up on you. You know, in you're heart, that only two people other than himself know all these things.

The other is his best friend. His best friend that happens to live down the street from him. You wonder if they talk about you ever? On the way home from school, sometimes you walk by. On weekends too, when you have no real reason to be out and about. Just so you can maybe perhaps see him and say 'Hi' like everything is great. And maybe he'll actually answer back. And maybe you can pretend about everything and that stuff is fine, when you both know it's not.

Because it hasn't been for a year.

You're best friend, the only person that actually understands everything, has moved away. She is going through exactly what your'e going through, and neither can tell a soul. Last year, she asked about you to him. He lied, called you names, and swore. He put you down, and made you feel like dirt- and for awhile you cried and were mad at him.

After that, you told people he was over. You didn't like him. Slowly, that 'didn't like' became a very peculiar form of hate. Yes, you hated him. You hated him for making you feel like this. For still loving him, because you both know all those things he said were lies. Because his best friend told you so.

You hate that when you hear his name, you feel something. That you feel like you can't like someone else because that's cheating. You hate how easily he seems to go on with his life when you cannot go on with yours. You hate him so much you love him.

Often, in times when you aren't hating him, you think. Example; If he were a vampire, you would ask him to bite you because you know that spending eternity with him is what is supposed to happen. You hate pain, but you'd suffer through it for everything. After watching the movie 2012, and you could only save one person, it would be him. And on May 21st of this year, when the world was supposed to end, you thought about calling him- just because you knew you wanted to hear his voice one last time.

If you hear somewhere that he got hurt, you get afraid. Even if it's a cut, a bruise, a torn leg in track practice...you become fearful. You know that you can only live knowing he's okay too. If he were to die, you don't think about that because it sounds like you honestly couldn't live either.

And just when you think your'e okay, that you've moved on...that you can finally like another guy? You can't. Because he's there, a picture, a post, anything just when you think you've found happiness to remind you that everyone else is always going to be second. And the worst is, you're probably second to him now.

What will it be like, twenty years from now? You can imagine anyone but him with someone else. That thought threatens to destroy you. The idea that he could be happily with someone else and not you. Since him, you haven't been able to love properly. Since he showed you that butterfly feeling, you can't commit to anyone else.

There's someone else, of course. There always is. And this guy is amazing. He's smart, funny, quiet, polite, good-looking, loyal, romatic, simple family life, would go to the ends of the earth and back for you. He's the guy that any girl dreams off. He's me in boy form. He's who's best for me. I should love him, but there's a problem. He's not him. And you feel so goddarn guilty because you can't love him how he loves you because there's always going to someone else. Honestly, you had a crush on him in the first place because he looked like this guy that you love.

So you try liking guys that don't look like him. You try so hard. But you just keep comparing them to him.

It never stops.

And soon, you begin to hate yourself because of this. Because it never will stop, not until you're together. When you were young, he gave you something. It's now your'e most cherished possession. It costs only about two cents, and looks like crap. But even if you think you've lost it, you can't focus. You go mad. You can't sleep. You can't eat, you can't breath. It's a bracelet. One from those 'make you're own' sets where you slide on the metal lettering. It's in black; because he knew that was you're favorite color. It just simply says, 'Friends Fovever'. You learn from his father he spent hours on this.

So why, now, is he breaking that promise. You ask him about it once and he denies ever making it. But from the blush on his face, he dosnen't want to say he's a big softie.

You're a writer, something you didn't start until he left. And unsurprisingly, most of you're work is about him. Discreetly. But always there's that character that's HIM. Sometimes there's multiple characters. And this character always ends up with the one that is you. It can't be any other way. And when people ask if you want to be published, you say yes. And then ask you if you'd get a penname because you're only 16 and you don't want that kind of popularity. You say you wouldn't. Because yo want him to walk through a store and see you're name and pick up the book. And read it. You know he's a reader. And hear that character's thoughts about himself, and put two and two together. It's you're own way of pouring you're heart out wihtout ever having to see him.

And so, you start highschool. Soon you forget about him, mostly. He's always in the back of you're mind, but with all new guys floating around, you shove yourself into them, to get over him.

It's after you're first year of highschool when it happens. First comes the dreams. Dreams of him, and you. Him and you kissing, always. You've never felt his lips in real life but you want to so badly. Secretly, it's been on you're chirstmas list for the past five years. The first time you started these dreams, out of the blue, was two years ago. It had been only a month or so since you last saw him. You had these dreams.

The next day you're mother asks if you want to go to this horrible movie you've seen already once with you're siblings. You hated it, because it butchered the book it was based off of, but you still say yes. As you wait in line for popcorn, you do wonder what possessed you to agree, you hate this movie!

The room is dark when you go in, and the previews are already rolling. You grab a seat up top, where there's not many people. Just as you settle down you hear a voice. A voice of someone you know, but you think you're imagining it. Then, you hear his name in a sentence. Remember what you said about his name being the only one in the city?

You spin around so fast you're neck starts to hurt. Sitting there, so you know that question is for you're ears especially, is his little brother. He's smirking, and nods to us like he knew we were there. Like that whole sentance was directed at you. You have to sit through the whole movie knowing he's sitting behind you (at this point in time you had not seen him for a year). After the movie gets done, you wait and lie low to see if he gets up. You see him, and it's like you're walking on cloud nine. You run after him, intending to have a nice long chat with him in the halls but all that comes from you're mouth is 'hi...'

He looks surprised. He hadn't known you were there either. In a rush, you say that he was sitting behind you during the movie. He looks even more shocked, and his little brother is standing behidn you laughing. He barley has time to say 'hi' back before he's dragged away. It's then you realize for the first time just how much he owns you're heart. That it was never yours, not since you met him.

You tell a select few about this time.

The dreams tell you something. When you'll see him again, or something in relation. You heard once you dream about someone if they think of you before they fall asleep, so you wonder if he's thinking of you when you dream of him. You'd like to think so.

This was the last time you saw him. Two years, it's been. The dreams come a few times.

The next, you find him on Facebook. The third, he adds you as a friend. Fourth; he has his first girlfriend. Five: he breaks up with that girlfriend. Sixth; you easedrop on his best friend talking about him in detail. Seventh; this is when you grow some courage.

You're sitting on facebook and his name pops up. It rarely does; Facebook is not something he's on often. You know the dreams, and feeling brave, you say 'hi'. It's not a even a second later he says hi back. You only manage to get one word answers out of him. Soon you become exapserated with him. The last thing you say before he logs off its, "You know you don't have to talk to me." He replies, "I know." and leaves. This leaves you thinking for a long time. What did he mean by that? What could possibly be his inner thoughts. You wish you were a mind reader, because he leaves you confused. For the first time in six months, you don't hate him. The next day is his birthday and you leave a happy birthday message and a friend of his you don't know, likes it. This again, leaves you wondering.

And now, it's been nearly three months since then and the dreams are back again. You soon see why.

There's this thing. It's a dance, and it rotates states. There's one tonight. You've never gone to one, and it's only for highschoolers. No drinking, drugs, or anyo of that stuff is allowed. And you know he's going. The world hates you, and it just so happens he's going with someone he probably hasent' spoken to in ages and just happens to be you're current crush at the moment. You want to go so badly.

But from farther conversation of trying to find friends to go with you, you figure something out. This place is not you're style. It's a three hour grinding-fest. You do not grind. This is not you're personality.

And this is where the possible regret comes in. There's a friend that you know is going, and she said you could hang out with her. But you don't like her friends, and another friends says the place is so big, it's nearly impossible to find people. But you want to go and see him so badly, it hurts. It makes it feel like you're heart is tearing.

You know he'll be grinding. But, you have to wonder, if you went, would it be with you? You could live with that. You might even like it. The idea of him with anyone else, to see him with someone else, makes you want to puke. But, you know that it would be okay if you only saw him for a second. The world may right itself if that happens.

You know if you told you're BFF this, the one that moved, she'd be telling you to go. Heck, she'd be pulling you along because she always wants you and him to end up together. You feel ashamed, because you know this, yet you can't make yourself go. Yet, you want to go so badly. You'd always look back on this day if you didn't, and wonder what would happen. In the end, you can't go. You'd be afraid. It's probably hot, sweaty, and you don't feel like grinding with random strangers.

So you ask a friend to find him and tell him you said 'hi'. You wonder what he'd say. What he will say. This friend has no idea of you're full history. She dosen't know.

You wonder if this were to ever end up on Facebook, would he read it? If it was on you're profile, would he know? How could he not? You've left enough hints. Ample hints. He'd have to be blinder than blind to not see it's him. To not see that I love him.

You wonder if he'd think you were a stalker, or if he thinks these things too, but would never say them out loud.

Mostly, you wonder if you were really meant to be.

Or, if you're destines were interwined, but never to be joined.