The one

My heart soared and I felt a surge go through me.

I was ecstatic. You thought about me.
How often do I cross your mind?

Then i remebered, you never chose me, for years.
I would get close, But no, it was never me.

Years ago, I wondered what was wrong, why wasn't I enough.
but I'm pretty sure it's not me.

Everything happens for a reason in these passings of people but.....

But it still hurts.

Because even though we weren't close, I considered you the one who got away.

And sometimes I allow myself to dream that you'll see me with clearer eyes, a patient heart, a fresher mind.

But it's okay. Because sometimes I know you think about me, and I'll take that over not being anything to you.

This poem is about: 
Me

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