The absolute truth, though, is I wanted to love you. No matter how far. I wanted you to be the one sweet surrender, but you went and did the one thing you couldn’t. Why? I guess the question I will always have is why. We go on day-to-day scrapping with everything. For me I guess you were that girl next door. It was this vibe you had. I would wonder what your perfume smelled like. I would wonder if you would go to bed clutching your pillow. I wanted to be your hero, too. I had that school-boy puppy love for you. In my mind you could do no wrong- it wouldn’t let you. Together we made the impossible possible. I have to wonder if that even exists anywhere- and if it does- for how long. I think that is why you are so special to me. I miss what it is like being in love. Young love. To me- you were the chocolate fudge brownies my girlfriend once made me on my birthday. She mailed them to me while I was in college. To me, you were the whole weekend of s**, movies, and food that you didn’t want to end. You were the walk across a frozen campus at 2:30am that somehow was not the least bit cold in the dead of winter with nothing but a t-shirt and pair of jeans on. You were the makeout session in the movies to me. You were the reason to drive faster. To me, you were every goal achieved without a shadow of a doubt for the rest of my life. You were the biggest grin on my face the next morning at work. But love isn’t like that. Not real love. It’s a dull, faded red paint job on an old rusty pickup. Love is a sober Sunday morning with a slight hangover. Love is kind. Love is respect. I think– I could have loved you, too. You would give me hints about who you were that you let few see. That’s what I admired about you. And now you’re gone. I guess I did love you.