And today was one of those days.
It began, of course, in the blackest of moods,
But progressed like flowers bloom:
Into something awesome.
Because I love Christmas, and parties, and lovely gobs of people
And I like him.
And the more I just talk to him,
The better things seem to get.
Sometimes, I like our fictional relationship
An immense amount.
And I've said it a thousand times and then some,
But he's quite perfect.
In that utterly imperfect way.
His laugh and his silly expressions and
How he plays guitar and bakes and likes art and music
And the list is just immense.
Oh, I dearly like him.
I'm so horrid,
Fawning over him like this.
Seriously,
Being born earlier would make things
That much easier.
There's a hint in case you're still trying to unravel the mystery
Of who this guy could possibly be.
I sometimes wonder at how much I give away.
I worry somebody will find out
And blab to him.
And then they'll have a hearty laugh about it.
But I talk to him and I feel like dancing.
And it's lovely and horrible.
It's like eating something too sweet.
It's so great, it's awful.
He's that sickly sweet piece of candy.
Oh good lord,
What a terrible analogy.
It somehow sounds sexual.
Oh horrid...
But yes, so the day,
It got awesome.
And the guy?
He's still lovely.
And the next two weeks?
Glorious sanctuary
Amidst the stoning which is school.
But it's also two weeks
Without seeing him.
Hmm, hmm.
Glorious sanctuary outweighs that idea.
Any day.
1 comment:
Love.
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