Let It Linger.

He was someone else's and we were complete strangers.

But his eyes were so blue that I found myself staring, constantly staring and wondering what it would be like to be the reason for his smile.

It started out beautifully then curved into teenage angst; fighting and making up.

But I loved him.

I broke up with him once and he cried. It was then that I knew that he actually loved me, too.

But life got in the way and he went down a road I wouldn't dare follow. We remained friends and dated off and on, but mostly we were off. The switch was broken because, in one move, he broke my heart.

He asked me once, "what do you see in the future?"

And I replied, "you." It was simpler then. It was easy to see him and only him.

He said, "I see us married with kids and a golden retriever. You'd have your big yard and I'd have my muscle car."

It shocked me, at first, because he'd actually thought about these things in such detail. I had too, but I didn't want to admit it.

Three years passed and the switch remained broken. I saw him again, high and in the wind. We were with friends, but the moment we were alone he said, "Do you remember when we were fifteen and I asked you about our future?" I nodded because that's not something you just forget and he followed up with, "marry me?"

He cried. For hours, he cried and told me about his thoughts and fears. I listened, but not with the same heart. He asked again and I kindly declined. I wasn't taking him seriously. Instead, I said we should sleep and that night, I chose to sleep on the floor.

The next morning, we sat on the front porch and he asked me again. I said, "you were actually serious? I thought you were just saying that because you were intoxicated."

Apparently, I was wrong because ten years passed and I happened to see him again. And he reminded me of the conversation. I just laughed and told him that I didn't think we were meant to be anymore. Life has changed both of us.

To this day, he still asks. And I always decline.