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She was close to me and my heart still aches for her.

We didn’t know each other long. But we saw each other almost every day. Sadly, she never knew. She never knew how I felt inside. I never told her.

I thought about her often. When I drove home from work, when I hiked the hillside trails alone, lying in my bed at night–my thoughts always returned to her.

The more time I spent with her, the more I talked to her, the more I discovered about her, the more I wanted. I wanted to know everything about her, and I wanted a lifetime to do it.

Say my name, just say it. And I would replay those moments in my head so many times. I would hang on her every word. And when she looked at me I would melt.

Just friends.

I wanted to share with her all my favorite spots around California. The mountains, the valleys, the secret campsites and hiking trails, little trout streams, small mountain towns… all those special places I’ve found during my wanderings and swore that I’d return to one day with someone special.

Someone very special she was, indeed. One of those special someones that makes a guy say, “wow” when you first meet her. She was that to me from the very first day, from the first hello.

It had been so very long since I’d had those feelings. So many long years. I wasn’t ready to meet someone like her. But I did. It happened.

I wished things could have been different. I wished *I* could have been different. I wished I could have been the guy she wanted. Or at least, the guy I *thought* she wanted. But I never knew. I never told her. Now all I have are memories of that special someone who got away.

I’m glad for those fleeting moments I had with her. That’s all I have.

That will have to be enough.

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