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The Most Beautiful Girl in the World
hands
lilblackdress
This morning, I was putting away a box of old letters back into the closet when I decided to flip through some of them. They were letters, some from past loves. There were a series from the most beautiful girl in the world, one of the few regrets I have in life, but one of the biggest.

She was a freshman. I was a senior. I considered that difference in age a little unacceptable, especially since I had it in my mind that I was into people older than myself (I was seeing a man twice my age at the time, too). She was tall and thin and androgynous. She had long hair, but it was almost always a mess. She never dressed to impress, just for comfort. Shy, funny, and so sweet. She was not conventionally beautiful, but I thought she was, behind her coke-bottle glasses. We got to know each other in the mess of high school in a club together. I was involved in other relationships outside of school, too busy and self-absorbed to really see how much she adored me. I adored her, but I had so much fear about her. Not because she was a woman, but because of the barriers that I mentally put around myself when it came to my relationships: never date someone in the same high school, never date someone younger, never be the passive one. Even though she was shy, she was shy with others and not me. She was aggressive with me and I found that intimidating, since I preferred to be the one that was aggressive, the one that pushed the relationship forward, to more intimacy.

I broke her heart when I got wrapped up in my on-and-off boyfriend taking me to the prom and all the promise of college and what that would bring. I left her behind and I didn't know what to do or how to apologize after so long. We just... stopped talking to each other and I don't really know why or how. I don't remember. All I know is that one day, I realized that she was gone and I didn't know what to do.

I wish I had the guts to let her in, to let her love me and to love her with no hesitation. Although we held hands, we never kissed and how I wish we did. I still dream about her, still dream about thinking of what it would be like to have her bend down and kiss me and touch my face.

Once upon a time, the most beautiful in the world loved me. Now she's gone and all I have are memories. I wonder where she is now. I'm sure that she's making someone else deliriously happy. There are some moments when I wish that was me.

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This is sad - and I think almost everyone has similar regrets from opportunities they didn't realize.

Some if it is nostalgia...but you can always try to find people and see how they are doing!

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