In bed, nursing what seems to be the world's worst headache, she thinks:

 

It's time to move on from this year long unrequited love.

With a pang in her chest, she recalls how happy he used to make her. The sound of his laughter blending in with hers echoes through her mind, sending a rapture of salty tears down the valleys of her cheeks.

They used to drive around with the windows down, hunting the local shops for things she may like. His left hand, so sire and steady, held the steering wheel so comfortably, while his right reached for her waiting palm, so open to his touch, like waves coming home to the shore. Their eyes would meet for a split second, and he'd catch her gaze and smile, his eyes turning into half moons, before she'd look away, not knowing what to say.

Those were the things that jump-started her heart, fragments of moments that used to make her day.

He was sweet. He was cute when he tried. And underneath all the baggage, sje saw that he had a good, forgiving heart.

And so she fell.

Her world revolved around him. For a year, she hung onto his every word, latching herself into his million watt smile. She let herself go, not knowing whee she'd land, hoping he'd break her fall.

But he didn't, and she was hurt. Badly.

She realized how wrong she was to let herself believe the things she thought she'd seen. He was good, he was great. But he was not in love with her.

For her, he was the sun. To him, she was a star.

It took her a year to open her eyes and finally see reality. She was blinded by his light. He was attracted to her shine.

But he is not the sun.