text: "Fuck that. I won't do this to myself, won't do it to someone else, ever again." he said to himself after breaking up with her. She was beautiful but that's all there was to it. Facial features and curves can only take you so far. He knew it was a bad idea from the start, and he knew he should have ended it sooner. Years pass and everything changes. Severe mental health issues delay graduation. What a wild white knuckle ride that was. Deep depression, mania, depression again, repeat. Suicide sounded so comforting for so long. This is a different world for him now. Full of people who only understand him through his label: Bipolar. He forgets about the girl but he cannot forget about the way it feels to have someone special. Someone who really loves you and accepts you for who you are. He craves intimacy. Not the variety you find between the sheets. Just the little things: The soft warmth of kissing someone on the cheek. Falling asleep on the couch while you're watching a movie. The sweet smell of her hair. The first hug at the end of a long day. Holding hands in the chilly fall air. He's pretty stable these days... but the cravings are getting worse and worse. Visions of standing in the kitchen with her, flirting while he cooks. Listening to her stories. Exchanging fascinating ideas. Sitting in silence. The years roll by faster and faster. Where is she? Who is she? Is she even out there? Should he look for her, or just stay put and be patient? Nobody knows. But some day, the wait will be over. Hands on the nape of her neck, pulling her in for a kiss. The first one. It's pure bliss. Three seconds of heaven, then prolonged eye contact, and a warm smile. Giggling while making out in the park like a pair of teenagers. Waking up next to her while she's sleeping, and thinking: "I still can't believe it." Associating songs with her. Movies. Books. Starbucks drinks. And it will just as good as he remembered it to be. No - even better. The wait is painful but it will be worth it. For her. Whoever she is.