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.
Share
Post to Facebook
Tweet on Twitter
