Do you remember that one day, I think it was a colder day, well, obviously not in Costa Rica, but here it was. Anyways, do you remember that day when I asked you about your friend? When I got that weird message from her asking me how I knew you, how I felt about you, not to hurt you, etc. And then of course I had to ask you how she knew about me. How else would she have if not for you? I remember the hurried panic in your messages, as you tried to reconcile the situation. Obviously it was quite amusing to me, especially when you told me how you very specifically ordered her not to talk to me about what you had told her. At that point I was immensely curious about what you had said to her, but of course you played it off like I was only briefly mentioned in passing conversation.

I think, somewhere in the back of my mind, that I had been hoping that this would be the moment. The moment when we would finally stop sending cryptic messages of our love within the music we sent back and forth, and actually say it with our own words. But then again, even just knowing that you had told your best friend about me meant something to me. I thought that it must mean that I'm sort of special to you, at least in some type of way. nonetheless the butterflies in my stomach that had never gone away throughout the time I had been talking to you multiplied that day. And the hope I had that we would one day be more than just friends took root in my heart. Its too bad that those roots didn't reach deep enough to get to you though.

Your friend with the Curly hair must remember that day as clearly as I do, because when I ask her about it, about what you had said to her that made her so curious about my relationship with you, her smile gets even brighter. I think this is where my heart starts beating a million miles per minute, and the butterflies from that day returned. She looks at me with her smile that reaches all the way to her eyes and tells me exactly what I needed to hear. She tells me that you liked me. But something about that sentence hits home, and hits hard.

Past tense. Is that how it will always be with us? Like we're stuck in the past, with no hope for a future, no room for those butterflies anymore.