I loved a girl once, and she loved me back, for a time. It was academic, in the sense we were together on behalf of academia, but it became apparent to me only one of us fit in, and it wasn’t her.

But I loved her just the same, and when the time came to part ways, my heart was broken in two as she made the final call. So as all lovers do in a face of determined heartbreak, I stopped my love, and learned to hate.

So I hated that girl for a while, and learned to convince myself I was better. Not just better off without her, but better as a whole, in any and every way that would help me ease the pains of heartbreak. The friends I’ve made came in, telling me I was smarter, I was better looking, I was the better candidate for life. And I started to believe it.

And here we are, almost a year later, and I see her across campus and we’ll wave. After months of commitment in convincing myself I’m better, my grades are higher, my jobs pay more, and the circle of friends and power I have around me is constantly growing, overshadowing her own.

I can’t help but stare in wonder at the way she smiles at life, seemingly loving every minute of it.

She smiles at life while I only find reasons to write poems.