From Him To Her

She was the type to wait until really late at night to message people, the type to send the "Hey are you up?" text. He was the type to reply in a couple minutes "Yea" or "Mhm". Somehow she felt relieved by his replies. Somehow she would smile whenever he talked to her, but then it stopped. They didn't talk anymore. Somehow he would watch her, study her. He'd see her smile. He'd see her laugh. And he knew those were her accessories. He took his time to contemplate her and analyze her personality. It took him some time but eventually he fell in love with what was there for him to see. To him she was strong and brave and oh so beautiful. To her he was barely a memory anymore, but of course he didn't know that. To her life was okay, average. It was "there's really nothing for me to do". To him life was good. It was endless hours of waiting and watching and thinking how to word himself correctly for her. On one hand she was moving forward to new things, new people, better people. People who perhaps could appreciate her more. On the other hand he was doing his best trying to bring back, to show her he cared, show her he was better, perhaps she'd allow him to try, allow him show his new ways. Eventually though she'd completely forgotten him, and it was only until then that he was prepared to express himself. To him it was obvious he'd lost his chance, so he wrote her a story ending with "I'm sorry".