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Unrequited
M.
I stare at him helplessly, hopelessly, my heart in my eyes. He doesn't notice. He's never noticed, and he never will. We're complete opposites, he and I. From totally different worlds. He placidly goes on eating, chewing each morsel thoroughly, meditative, before reaching for the next bite. I've finished my own meal long since, as careless and ravenous as he is cautious and methodical. I want to howl my frustration, but he'd no more understand that than he's comprehended anything else I've done to demonstrate my futile adoration. Red and gold and black, he paces confidently the narrow paths laid out by custom and coincidence. If he dreams of more, he's never revealed so much. I sigh, and settle, and take comfort in imagining a world where he and I are not separated by superstitious prejudice, where my love could be offered and returned freely. A world where a wolf and a turtle could find happiness. Together.