I loved you when I was twenty-one and still when thirty-one rolled around. The years pass without you. People come and go. Some I remember well. Others I can’t even recall their names. Now I’m over forty and still in love with a man I can’t have. H.E.
The pain started years ago,
but I’d lived with it for so long
at that point that I’d accepted it
as an inevitable part of me.
by Ashley D. Wallis