I have met him only once. I have spoken to him only a few words. I acted uninterested when he showed interest in me. But now, I am interested. I took such a long time to make up my mind. Alas, it was too late.
I shall never know what he really thought about me. I shall never know if he cared for me, if he found me interesting, if he was attracted to me, if he could have been the one. I shall never know what music he liked, which movies he watched, what books he read, what drinks he drank. I shall never know how it would be to make love to him, how it would be to kiss him, how it would be to hold his hands. Dammit, I shall not even know whether I stood a chance. It gives me a sharp pain in my breast. If only, I was not so timid. If only, I had conversed with him. If only, I had shown my true self to him. If only, he hadn't got engaged so soon.
Is this love? Or is the feeling you have when you realise that the stone you threw away was actually a diamond?