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Image Description NoInk   |   30 October 2017

By Dianne Ramos

His eyes would shine whenever he talks about his favorite things. From cars, to shoes, to watches, to me.

His voice is a mixture of high and low with a little bit of just right. He would sing wonderful melodies as his fingers perfectly play six strings.

He would ask me about my day and tell me about his. We would send photos and videos to each other every three minutes. A fire emoji, a number, and a red heart beside his snapchat user name.

He would tell me that I look pretty and that my dress fits me perfectly as if it were made by angels just for me.

He is wonderful and great. He is everything I have ever wanted.

But he is not you.

Because your eyes radiate fire. They light up the room when you talk to me about everything you love. Every sentence becomes poetry when you talk to me about her.

Your voice fills my mind as everything you say is a harmonious song; as if your heart was trying to reach hers across the room.

You would ask me about my day as I would ask you about yours. You’d jump up and down as you would tell me about that time you saw her in the hallway.

You’d tell me she looked absolutely breathtaking; as if she was an angel that made her way on earth just for you to see.

You're wonderful and great. You’re everything I have ever wanted.

But you can’t be mine. Because you’re hers.

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