70 minutes. What magic the brain can do in 70 minuets. You would think an average, boring 70 minutes in a Japanese classroom would be harmless, and in many ways it was, but those 70 minutes are the bane of me existence.
Or maybe my mind is the bane of my existence.
I love Mrs Lewis, I always have. The natural light she has towards herself is astounding. So, when she suggested group work on the faithful Monday, I wasn't shocked. I was sitting close to my friends anyway, what would be the problem?
We were a group of four, like we've always been. And because it was supposed to be groups of three, there was one boy left over. He was ordered over to our group to steal one of us. And because I am the boldest, I gladly offered myself over to his awkward smile. And I already knew a lot about this boy (he waa the ex of a distant friend) and I now know more.
But throughout what seems like endless giggles and inside jokes, my mind started doing a horrible thing. I thing I forbid it to do after the second horrible time.
My brain created a fake world where him and I are together.
Yes, that boy is tall (I have a thing for height)
Yes, the boy has nice hands (I also have a thing for hands)
But my brain is wicked. It wants things it can't have. It has set me up for a lifetime of writing sad poetry. A lifetime of crying to sweet love songs.
A lifetime of longing.
YOU ARE READING
heart shaped glasses
Poetrya pretty compilation of sad words by a thirteen year old girl.
