Special

When I love someone, I just want to have a special relationship with them, something we have that no one else has. There's someone in my life that I used to have that special relationship with; we were close friends, we were flirting, we talked all night and it was as though no one else in the world was there at all. Except us. And I liked it that way.

As it turns out, this person and I have a bit of a history and the thing about that is, when the history became, so to speak, "history", that relationship basically dissipated. There isn't anymore flirting or talking all night just the two of us, there isn't anymore of that at all. Now we're just friends, and I have the same relationship with him as I do with any of my friends and he feels very much the same about me. And yet, I still long for what we used to have. Why? God knows. Because I think humankind by nature, is masochistic. We yearn, we pine, we ache to feel something, anything, as long as it's real -- and that goes so much further than cutting oneself or jumping off a bridge; it's a universally accepted truth; that we always want things we can't have and we wait for them, like waiting for a train that's just never going to come. That's how I feel right now; waiting, waiting,waiting, to be special again. And I won't be. And it hurts. A lot.

I miss being special.