Your door was open.
I sprinted towards it.
Tripping on my own enthusiasm, I fell to the ground before your feet.
However, she had beat me to your door.
It was slammed before my face.
I rattled it but it could not be opened.
It was locked.

The door was attached to a room.
A room with windows.
I could see you but you could not see me.
You were too distracted by her.

The seasons changed and coldness embraced me as I watched your happiness blossom.
Every smile and laugh shared pierced my selfish heart.
It was torture to watch from the outside.

One night you looked out the window and you saw me.
Instantly the glass shattered.
Violently, it tore apart my body as it flew in all directions.

I was finally free to go to you.
Not through your door; but around it.
As soon as I crossed the border my mangled body was finished in a final blow.

It hurt me that much more to be so close to you yet so far because she was still there.
And there she will remain.
I will continue to slowly die on the floor.
Because your smile feeds me and every glance in my direction puts air into my lungs.
But her smile starves me and every glare from her suffocates me.

She has every right to hate me.
I wasn't made to be a doorstop. I was made to walk through someone else's door.  
Anyone else but his.