Here I am, sitting face to face with the wrong woman. When I say the wrong woman, I say it with all do respect. She is a beautiful young lady, and it’s no denying that. Staring into her eyes, with hopes of breaking the choke hold that your love still has on me, my mind drifts right back to the same old memories of you and I; I and you; us and we. She looks back at me in a weird way, as if she has the same thoughts of me being the wrong man. She looks as if she needs me to refill the void that her ex-boyfriend had left inside her life. I can feel her pain. Lord knows I can feel her pain. We both cry on the inside as we act as if we were a match made in heaven, and who knows? Maybe we are soul mates. Maybe we are in the right place at the right time. Wait a minute. Who am I fooling? I know better than to think this way. She is not you, and I am not him. Our denial guides us both through this pitiful attempt to spark a flame between two broken hearted individuals. Attracted to each other for all the wrong reasons, we sit and we talk. We hope, and we wish. We wish that this was more than just a rebound that leads us both to a night of great sex. Although its been such a long time since I felt the touch of a woman, I still think of you. I still think of you. Lord knows I still think of you. While denying myself a rebirth of romance, I tell this woman that I am not ready. I tell her that my heart is else where, and I need time to figure out where I want to be. She understands, and admires my honesty. Honestly, she tells me that I am a good man because most of the other men that she had met in the past were only out for one thing. Looking at how fine she is, how can I blame them. As alone as I feel, I still yearn for you. A fool in love, I wonder if you still yearn for me. I’m stranded.