Like Onegin

In my childhood days, I remember a young boy, who was carefree and funny. But he never left my mind as the guy who gave me odd gifts of grown up clothes and stuff. An emotionless girl I was back then, I never thought of him the way he thought about me. I indirectly, unknowingly rejected him, his fervent confession of young love. Years did pass, he left my life, but did I leave his? I dug up my old things, and among them I see, the glittery top he gave me. Then more mature as I was, I asked him again, what did he mean when he gave me this, and why he did. He answered me; I was drop dead in love with you back then. Surprised, I was I shook it off with a casual laugh and said; Ok then. He wasn`t so handsome, but his charm was his smile and deep eyes. Then almost a year after that, I see him again and guess what? I stare wide-eyed of what he became. His toned body and his neat hair. His smile and eyes I still remember. Unknowingly, I started thinking about him, and how I wished I had him as mine. Like Onegin, I am. Rejecting a lover, then later regretting and chasing after him again. But unlike him, I never managed to confess my feelings, because I know, Like Onegin, I only fell for him because of how he looks now. And I curse at myself for thinking of him like that. And here I am now, Like Onegin, defeated and lonely.