ArcticOwl

The most tragic thing is recognizing the fact that I may never get to know what the view from your passenger’s seat is like. I do not understand why that is so important to me, but it is, just like how finding out what your most embarrassing childhood story is, or what you love to eat, or what you would do if I were ever to get upset with you is important to me.

I wish I were more patient and optimstic about my prospects, but I feel like I am done with it all. I don’t like anyone, and I don’t show any hint of being capable of ever liking anyone. What more, I cannot imagine any respectable guy ever falling for me. Just look at my track record. I would be delusional if I kept on entertaining the idea of someday. We must be realistic. I’m not one to wait, pine or yearn. I have a fulfilling life, and I am content with everything being exactly the way it is. Even if I weren’t, it does not change the fact that I don’t meet story-worthy men, and even if I did, they would never spare me a second glance. I am not left with any choice here. The simple matter is it is never going to happen. And I really don’t mind so much since I’ve come to accept this a while back. But it is quite disheartening knowing that we will never meet, that I will never know you and that I will never have that story. All that time spent wondering what kind of person you are, and what kind of relationship we would have would be all for nothing. It is a shame because there is nothing that I would like more than to know what the view from your passenger seat is like.

But it wasn’t meant to be.