I should have seen you coming.

You weren’t hard to miss, but I think some force of nature pushed you out of my mind. As a warning, maybe.

Until our heads collided and I knocked you off of your feet.

I like to pretend that was our first date.

To you it was three o’clock at the mall, making fun of people on the bench by the fountain. You always liked when we did that.

You seemed to like me.

But I loved you.

I guess that’s why I didn’t see it coming.

The big break.

The “I-just-don’t-think-we’re-good-together” thing.

I didn’t really hear you, but I responded all the same.

“Why? I thought I had you at head-bang.”

You then gave me the no-answer answer.

“Because.”

And then you said the “I-just-don't-think-we’re-good-together” thing again.

So flippant. So calm. Your red hair pulled over your shoulder, and your brow creased in sympathy.

My face must have told you all you needed to know. I was in pain.

And all you had to say was “because.”

But your “because” wasn’t good enough.

I don’t think it will ever be.