Dear Boy at the Back of the
Class,
You're
going to gradutate this year. The thought of that terrifies me
because, honey, I'm running out of
time. Running out of time to tell you that you
have beautiful eyes. To tell you that your voice reminds me of
brisk winter mornings, and that I adore the way your laugh
comes in waves, much like the ocean.
You look like a sleepy autumn day, but have the spirit
of a stormy, but warm, spring. I'm running out
of time to tell you that when I see you, my stomach becomes
the home to a million
fluttering butterflies. When we lock eyes, I feel
vulnerable and naked. I want to kiss you, but I don't
dare put my lips on something so dangerously
beautiful. And I'm sorry. I'm sorry I'll never
have the courage to tell you this. I'm sorry I
ran out of time.
With Love, The Girl in the Front of the
Class.