I met a boy
I met a boy last August. He is tall and long. His hair is dark and his eyes strike me every time I see them for the first time that day. I liked it. I like him, still! He told me he liked me too.
He's hugged me a handful of times. He's given me other things - tangible and not - that are buried like treasure deep in my heart. And though I won't push him, I wanted more.
I'd like him to know that it would've been very special. Deep and meaningful. I'd like him to know that even though I'm not going to force it to happen, I wanted the deep and meaningful relationship. (Even though I'm scared of it.)
I'm writing to him now in the off chance that he still reads this 'blog'. If he doesn't read it, then maybe I'll write him a letter about all this - yes, a letter I can send when I've gone back home.
It's a bummer that I'm leaving. I would have liked to have seen how all of this would have played out.
He's hugged me a handful of times. He's given me other things - tangible and not - that are buried like treasure deep in my heart. And though I won't push him, I wanted more.
I'd like him to know that it would've been very special. Deep and meaningful. I'd like him to know that even though I'm not going to force it to happen, I wanted the deep and meaningful relationship. (Even though I'm scared of it.)
I'm writing to him now in the off chance that he still reads this 'blog'. If he doesn't read it, then maybe I'll write him a letter about all this - yes, a letter I can send when I've gone back home.
It's a bummer that I'm leaving. I would have liked to have seen how all of this would have played out.