Well, it’s over.
I spoke to her,
or to be more specific,
she spoke to me.
I guess I’m giving into this.
The world is on fire and I am blissfully breaking all of my own boundaries,
because there is this rush,
this buzz when I’m beside her,
talking about the music she likes,
what she did over the summer,
and I am sitting on my hands,
scratching them to ribbons,
to keep them quiet about all the ideas they have.
I went walking in the fields after school,
my waist, lost in a sea of towering, dancing crops,
whispering “I’d wait forever to be your girl”,
wondering what it would be like to have her phone number,
wishing in a way that we’d never met,
because
I told her today that one day, I’m going to be an admired and aspired to writer, or a pop star’s wife, like the kind of girls we spy in Heat Magazine (that magazine was a surprisingly good ice breaker!)
but the truth is,
my greatest ambition is the acclaim of being hers.
When will that be legal?
Sincerely, Jennifer x 