An Ode To You - Blog Posts

Your chocolate brown hair that always seems to be flattened in a baseball cap, and when you take it off there it is the side part that I make fun of all the time.

Not in a I hate you way, but in a way that makes you adorable. Is it weird noticing these things about you? But I notice all types of things like this with others all the time.

The boy that rides the bus at 7:10am with me and his black Bose headphones or the girl who I briefly passed by for a few seconds and her scent of coconut perfume. I remember it all. So it isn’t new to me, but what it is, is scary. Because I care about what you think of me in return so much.

I am certain you know I exist, a familiar face, maybe not my name, which is fair because I do the same. Rather I want to get to know you, yes you are handsome, you’re just my type and yes I’ve imagined scenarios, but what I want to happen the most is to be friends. I’ve never believed in love— no scratch that, I do believe in love, but I don’t believe in it for myself.

I am young, I have been reckless and I most certainly have failed relationship after relationship.

That’s why, I don’t care about getting hurt, but I care about being so perfectly happy when it isn’t true.

I dream of a perfect man, a perfect love not in the definition of perfect itself, but rather the perfect in how he’ll buy me my favorite pants and flowers, open the door for me, stand on the outside by the street, hold hands as much as possible, lean down to hear me and whisper the most outlandish words into my ears at an inappropriate time.

Cook with me, dance the night away, always have open arms, listen to my rants and have the ops, let me cling to him physically and help me bench press and give me kisses as rewards.

That’s the perfect thing that I want, for him to be attractive to me, tall, funny, have a beautiful smile, in essence to sweep me off my feet. I want to believe you are this man, but maybe you are, just not mine. I guess I have to be fine with that, and if I never become your friend at least, I guess I really don’t believe in love.

Maybe one day I’ll be confident enough in myself to not care what the outcome is. I know life is short, I tell myself that all of the time; I hear it and I see it.          

Photo credits: https://www.pinterest.com/pin/88594317663530037/