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The Ramblings of a Love Struck Freshman
I met him the first week of school, we had both taken Theatre Arts I. I talked to him everyday. It took me until October to realize how much I liked him. He was funny, super-nice, and cute. He had brown hair, light blue eyes, he was super skinny and a whole foot taller than me. He made me laugh when I had major stage fright before a performance, and told me I did good even when I messed up my lines. For those months, I was actually glad my parents made me sign up for theatre. I liked being with him. But I wasn't stupid. I knew I didn't have a chance. He was a senior, well-known and well-liked throughout the school. I was just a little nobody freshman with low self-esteem. He had been dating his girlfriend for a year and a half, while I had never even had my first kiss.
I think about him a lot. What it would feel like to have his arms wrapped around me, to have his lips taste mine, to have our fingers weaved together. I would give anything for that. I go see his band play a lot. I stand right infront of the stage and cheer and clap, and everytime he sees me there he smiles real big and talks to me for a while after they play, before leaving to be with his real friends. And his real girlfriend.
School is over in three months. Three months! He's going to go to college and I'm going to be left behind. He won't remember me, thats a guaranee.
But I'll remember him.
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