I Was Too Blinded By Your Goodness To See You Were Still Human


When we’re young, we don’t know how to see the truth in people. Honestly, I was naïve back then. For you, I peered through rose tinted glasses and hardly considered the truth about you besides the truth I wanted to see. I did us both a disservice.

I chose to see your angelic smile. You had a smile that lit up, not just the room, but the whole building. A smile that was so intoxicating and contagious, it could make anyone’s day. Your attitude was so uplifting, and people felt good just by standing near you.

And your hair was a beautiful light brown. Under locks of wavy curls, you hid a widow’s peak, and it was always the right amount of messy from mornings spent at swim practice.

Your body was sculpted, too, from years of flying through water, but you never showed it off. Instead, you preferred shirts that hung off your shoulders, to the flashy, skin-tight Ts. And you didn’t strut like most boys who feigned confidence because you didn’t have to fake anything.

And it was your eyes too. Light brown, almost hazel. Or maybe they were green. Honestly, I was never close enough to see their color, but close enough to know their genuine kindness.

I saw beyond your looks too. In your mind lay the secret of your appeal. That thing which supported your talent and skill and ambition. Your mind which was so sweet and kind and thoughtful.

Your mind which never, not once, thought about me.

But, I’m sure you never knew how I felt. I made sure you didn’t notice because you were too good for a girl like me. A girl with baggage that weighed her down. A girl who couldn’t perform to her potential. A girl who quit the things you loved so much. A girl who wanted so badly to be noticed, but was too scared to look in your direction.

Who was I, but a mediocre blight to you who shined so brightly? I convinced myself that you’d never notice me, and I never gave myself a chance. Instead, I let you have this power over me. I placed you on a pedestal of perfection, while I crouched down and averted my undeserving eyes.

Now, years later, I see how unfair I was to both of us. I should have taken off those glasses to see the truth.

That you’re fallible. For too long I thought you were perfect, because while I overlooked all your imperfections, all I did was see mine. You have worries and doubts and insecurities, just like everyone else. Underneath that smile is the fear of not being enough. And beneath those wavy locks is a mind which keeps you up at night.

I’m sorry.

I was too blinded by your goodness for me to realize the simple truth.

You’re only human. Just like me.