Two weeks ago I met a girl. We both know how this story goes: she liked me. I liked her. She was fun. We kissed , we talked and then… I got bored- I stopped calling her. I didn’t reply her texts . Eventually, she gave up. I had literally forgotten about her.
No, buddy. Not this time.
Two weeks ago I met a girl. She makes lots of typos, she thinks ‘KK’ is the same as ‘OK’. She’s not as fun as I would have hoped she’d be. She’s doesn’t have the complexion my older self had dreamed of. She barely understands French and her chess knowledge is just one level above pitiful.
Two weeks ago I met a girl. We spent the afternoon together today. Neither time nor space mattered. In fact, I would have preferred space became infinitesimal- I’d memorize her heartbeat better. She was exhausted so, she laid on my bed while I wrote.
Two weeks ago I met a girl. It’s 3 a.m. and I’m about to go to bed. My face hurts from smiling. I don’t know how long this will last and frankly, I don’t care. This moment is eternal. The quiet of the night soothes my loneliness and every whiff broadens my grin. I can’t help it.
I love the scent on my pillow.