Was he the one?
Most likely not.
But what drives you crazy,
at night when sleep is absent,
is the thought,
the possibility,
that he could have been.

Been the one,
as in you and him forever and ever,
the happy fairytale,
the bedtime story,
of the princess and prince in their dreamcastle.

The sweet torture of pondering what could have happened,
what could have been.
The regret for not having seized the day,
as they so lovely put it.
Or seized the boy,
as in my case.

This is the kiss that will com back to haunt you in years to come.
The kiss that you will measure every other kiss to.
The kiss that will be sweeter and sweeter the more time that pass,
because it did not happen!