Each person's moment is written so perfectly, in its own way. But even though I grow jealous as I read how perfectly the words are pieced together, I'm not jealous of the submitter at all. Every post is a story about love. A sad, beautiful story, as it should be. It's directed at a You. You who will never know how immensely You affected the life of this girl who is now spilling her heart anonymously to lovelorn readers who relate all too well to every moment and feeling she describes.
Even though I'm sometimes sad about not having been in love, maybe I need to have a new perspective and see it as never having had a broken heart. Maybe I haven't let anyone close enough to affect me since I haven't been ready. Because I needed to first find myself before I could share that with someone else. So I'll continue reading about what someone once had, and I'll continue to pretend to relate to parallel lives and perpendicular lines.