If I were looking for a perfect guy, I would be wasting my time.  But I guess I’m not looking for a perfect guy.  I found him a long, long time ago.  I haven’t been looking for as long as I can remember.  Sure, guys find me sometimes, and I let them, but that doesn’t mean I was looking for them.
    I’m ashamed of myself for just now figuring out that he was trying for so long to help me know that I’d found what I thought I was looking for but wasn’t.  All this time, I couldn’t get past myself and see him.  He’s been standing right in front of me for years and I didn’t know it.
    He’s standing in front of me now.  He’s looking past me at something else.  I turn around, and I see that he’s looking at another girl.  He’s smiling at her.  I know that smile.  That’s the smile I used to see every day, and it took his smiling it at someone else for me to recognize it.
    The irony would be amusing if it wasn’t so awful.  I would never have realized just how much…I would never have figured it out if he hadn’t slipped away from me.  It’s funny, and yet it’s not.  I didn’t know what I had in my hands until I lost my balance because I had nothing to hold onto.
    He gave up on me just when I finally fell in love with him.