My Blue Eyed Lover

At the end of the day, I could no longer look into his eyes. The sparkling blue reminded me of everything I had lost.
I wanted him to hold me and tell me that everything was going to be alright. That I would be okay and that he would be there for me.
It was nothing to do with the fact that I needed the comfort. I just wanted it from him, I needed it from him.
And after all the late nights, the silent messages, and holding hands - I was left more empty than I had ever been before.

It was the oddest thing, it wasn't what we had, it was what we didn't have that burnt me deep inside.
How can you miss something that you never had, something you don't have.

I knew at some point that it was love. But ask me how I got there and I could not tell you.
I never fell, it was not love at first sight. It was gradual, like a dripping tap.
At first, the sound is annoying, but eventually and if you let it, the bath is filled and the sound is no longer that hollow dripping sound.

I don't regret it, or him or any thing for that matter.
Feeling love again was probably the best thing that could have happened to me.
It taught me that I could love again, that I would love again.
Even if it was not meant to be, that knowledge is irreplaceable and for that I am eternally grateful.
I will probably always love him, not for himself or what we were together.
But for who he was to me.

Now, I look into his eyes and I do not feel like I'm crumbling anymore
I smile, with the knowledge that he was the best stepping stone I could have had.
Even if he doesn't know it.