I don’t know how it all started. I guess it was the day I met him. He was cute and polite and he seemed like he would make up for a good company. I suppose that the feelings just showed up without any permission. The conversations got deeper, the time flew by faster and everything started to seem natural. He told me stories and I told him secrets. He would give me a smile and I would suddenly become an open book. He soon started to know me: every mannerism and quirk...every little detail about my personal life and on top of that he knew about my feelings. I knew him well too. About how his sister ran away from home, about where he lived before he came in my little town and moved across the street. About how he got in a fight with his best friend and that they grew distant to each other. He liked me as well but not the way I did. I was like his emotional support, his friend, the one who knew about his life and his companion in which he could confide. Ohh..but I was such a fool, to believe that we could spend our time like that forever, that he wouldn’t find anyone else like me, that I was his special one, his only friend! Who knew that all of the sudden he would need a new kind of company. Not that one of a friend but the one of a girlfriend. He never had time for me, said that: “ she’s waiting”, “ she might start suspecting”, “she might get jealous”. She wasn’t the only one who got jealous. I lost him. To another girl. He hadn’t need for a friend. He managed without one. We grew apart from each other. The only thing that was left of my feelings were regret. Regret that I allowed myself to open up to him. Regret that I didn’t know when to shut up. Regret that I couldn’t keep him close. Regret that I realized I was such a fool.