It was the cold month of February, I was just an almost woman trying to blend in to a world of audacious behaviour and raging adolescence. I was an emotional wreck when he found me, he was just an ordinary guy, with a passive character, quiet but errant in an amusing way, you’d certainly notice him by the way he would take off his uniform and carelessly put it over his shoulder, he was simple with an inscrutable aura about him, a guy I could almost fall in love with. Almost.

And then we found each other, maybe it was the way I laughed or my stentorian voice brought him to me, he came to me like a surprise, like a gift wrapped in love and unfeigned sincerity, he was always around, following my directions, giving in to my loud and obnoxious nature, he was persistent, I was unstable. He was in love with me.

I wanted to control my mind, I tried to have a change of heart but it was so obstinate that I needed the time away from him, I pushed him away, I hid myself, I walked away and I forgot about him, I forgot about the possibilities, I didn’t think much about  other emotions, or how we could almost work out, I completely disregarded the fact that he could be the one for me, that we could have a chance.

Then it slipped, it was gone, what we had was just an almost-connection and I cut it away even before it blossomed, he was like the wind, he blew me away on the edge and just like any other story, it ended sadly, nothing but a faint memory of what could’ve been.

He was almost mine. I was almost his, yet it didn’t happen. We never happened.


  1. I do agree with Meiji. What kills here is the ‘Almost’, is the ‘what-if’, is the not knowing of how and where it could go.
    Another wonderful read, Ragazza! You’ve grown a lot, I must say, since the last time I read you. 🙂


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