"I let my hair down to write this. It's refreshing and I wonder if you would like to run your hand through my hair one day."
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It's a vicious cycle, this inner turmoil I experience within myself over you, someone who I have never even spoken to, yet I feel a deep connection, somehow. I could be wrong...so wrong and part of me hopes I am. A bigger part of me wishes me to be so right.
It began that one summer, where I, in my juvenile state saw you for the first time. I was about twelve and yet I contemplated you.
You, so mysterious, you wearing your dark, cloudy facade on your shoulder. How could I ever want anything less?
You were a dream to me. An untouchable dream. An unattainable goal.
I watched you that summer.
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After that summer I began a new life, a life where I barely thought of you and honestly I was doing great.
Until winter holiday came.