Do I need to say who? No, you already know who I am talking about.
I was walking to the library to pick up a book. He was sitting outside the Creative Arts building wearing black pants, a shirt, and red Vans slip-ons, a backpack was on his back. His hair seemed shorter (a haircut?). I wore a green skirt, black shirt, navy cardigan, and Doc Martens--my "Amelie" outfit, I like to call it, because the skirt and Docs make me feel like her. I was without a backpack--probably the only person without one. I like walking without a backpack; it's so freeing. We locked eyes for two seconds. That's it.
I felt nothing toward him. Nothing. The magic in seeing this perfect stranger had faded. I wanted to feel something, anything. But the feelings, the moments I once had in his presence--they're just words now, words that fill this journal and the journal in my bookcase. They were beautiful moments, and not a month will go by without me thinking about them.
It's over now. I know now that he's okay. I prayed for it. Thank you God for the closure. I walked back the same way, and he was talking with a girl that sat next to him. He's okay. Thank you, God, he's okay.
"All my life my heart has sought a thing I cannot name." -- a poem
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I'm over him, chauncey. I'm free..I think, and I hope. Haha. The reason I "sound" happy when I write about him is that I am happy when I write about him. I'm happy because he's okay, he's not in a coma or anything, he hasn't been kidnapped by convicts or anything. Thanks for complimenting the way I write about him--what can I say, boys inspire me. Haha.
Actually, that quote I put is from some unknown poem. I found it in the book I was getting at the library the day I saw the boy with glasses. I've googled it, but it only reappears as a quote from the aforementioned book. Take care!
p.s. I like your pic!
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