so i found this thing and i thought it was really beautiful and just had to post it. I just know you guys will like it. it's just brillant. i'm working to write like that. read it carefully. and then read it again. Repetition: i know you will like it.


It was a cold, snowy Monday night on the sidewalks of New York City. Snow drifted down from the sky, landing in hair and on lips and tongues. There was laughter and yelling, people running through the inches of snow, snowballs whizzing past cars and hitting shop windows.


The owner of the store came out and yelled angrily, shaking his fist at the poor girl who had thrown the snowball. Laughing, her boyfriend grabbed her and dragged her away.


He watched all of this silently as he walked along the street, averting his eyes as he glanced down at his feet. His feet crunched in the snow along the sidewalk, his own footprints mixing with the hundreds of people that had walked the sidewalk before him.


A snowball smashed on the wall mere inches from his nose snow hitting his new jacket, the soft wetness of it soaking in. He reached up and wiped the snow off his cheek and turned to where a teenager was standing, looking at him in shock.


"Sorry!" He called in mortification as his friend yanked him along, trying desperately not to laugh. A small smile crept across the man's face as he shook his head, sending drops of snow that had already melted flying.


He was a handsome man, in his early twenties. With shaggy black hair that never laid flat and bright grey eyes, women flocked to him. But he had only ever wanted one woman and he had gotten her.


Everyone had always told him he was too young to be married. His mother. His father. His sister. His brothers. His best friend.


But then again, he had always been stubborn. Always doing what he wanted, not what anyone else told him he should do.


In this case, it had been a horrible idea.


He kicked a snowball lying in front of him. A door opened, and the smell of coffee wafted out. The man sighed, pushing on past the coffee shop. He was going to make it home without any delays at all.


It had worked out, for about a year. Well, it was a year before he found it.


For her, it had worked for half a year before she got sick of him and cheated on him with some soccer hot-shot.


You see, she was one of those girls that was simply never satisfied. She always wanted more, and when it was given to her, it was never enough.


Which was the reason that he was out walking on a cold, snowy January night. He needed to get some fresh air, to think.


His ears were freezing, and he was pretty sure they were beet red. The air was nippy but not extremely cold, which was why the snow was coming down in big, white fluffy snowflakes, landing in his hair and melting, drops of water falling onto his forehead.


That was the problem of having dark hair. When it snowed, it looked as though you had dandruff. Well very big dandruff.


He was nearing one of the busiest streets in New York. He knew that he would most likely be glared at, sneered at, shoved, winked at, and practically frisked.


But he also knew that he was going to be smiled at by someone.


Which, not known to a lot of people, could make someone's day amazing. No matter who it is that gives the smile.


It was all that he needed. A smile.


He crossed onto the busiest street, feeling people shove him, just as he had predicted.

A boy with a Mohawk sneered at him, just as he had predicted. An attractive blonde wearing nearly nothing winked at him, just as he had predicted.


Luckily, though, his prediction about being frisked did not come true.


It happened just as he turned the corner.


Have you ever had one of those moments? That moment when a couple seconds feels like a lifetime? Where two pairs of eyes meet, and it's as though the world has stopped?


She wasn't particularly tall. She wasn't blonde. She wasn't a skinny stick. She was just right.


Their eyes met.


She was about five foot four, maybe a little taller, with short black hair. There was a light pink streak at the front of her hair, setting off her bright green eyes. When she moved, her hair followed her, swinging around her shoulders as much as her short hair could.


She was beautiful.


The time that passed when their eyes met felt like a hundred years, when, in reality, it had only been a couple of seconds. It was as though, within those few seconds that their eyes met, he could see into her soul, and she could see into his.


She was the girl for him.


But there was another man standing next to her.


He didn't seem to notice how she seemed to tune out what he was saying, her eyes finding the ones belonging to the handsome man that she felt she had known forever.


She seemed to be around the same age as him, maybe a little younger, maybe a little older. You could never really tell with women, since they had all those makeup tricks.


Up until then, the most attractive woman he had ever known was his ex-wife, who was blonde and skinny with rather large breasts.


It was amazing how a few seconds could change the remainder of your life.


He should have been happy; having the most beautiful girl he had ever seen taking an interest in him.


But she was with another man. And he knew that he could never compete with another man and what's more, it was very likely that they were never see each other again as long as they lived.


Knowing this, she almost started crying right there on the sidewalk.


He thought how amazing it was how much you can think in the time frame of a couple seconds. What his life would have been like if he had her, the things they would have done, how happy they could have made each other.


But she supposed it wasn't meant to be. God was subtle, sure, but he wasn't malicious.


But when they passed each other, on that cold, snowy January night, the thoughts of what their lives could have been like weighed them down as their lives were changed forever.


And as they walked past each other, and time slowed just for them, and their eyes sought the others, the girl smiled.


And time went on.