I feel fuzzy. I’ve never liked a guy like him before, but it’s exactly like everything else. Just as fuzzy.
You still sigh when you think about him. You see him and your heart speeds up. You’re afraid of anyone knowing, especially him. All of these things... This is love.

It’s a feeling in your chest... Somewhere between your heart and your stomach. You know it’s there when your heart skips and your stomach churns. You get that giggly feeling but suppress it for fear of actually giggling. You blush, you tremble, you twirl your hair.

You bite your lip, thinking. Your eyes just want a glimpse of him, your hands just want to brush by him, you just want him, nothing but him, and you'll be happy forever.
He has no idea, and I'll never tell him. Since this could never happen and I've denied it all for a week... well, I finally accepted it and look at me. Poetic and fuzzy. Oh, the shame. Hit me when you see me next, don't even ask about because I'll probably tell you nothing.

PS. This is the meltdown post I was talking about.

Don't say I didn't tell you, because I did.



Wow, you really read all that? Danggg. Props! =]

Well, I see you've just had the imponderable joy of stumbling onto the blog of an 18-year-old girl who can't really describe herself in 500 words or less, such as in little text boxes like these. She didn't intend her blog to really become so much like her online diary (she was hoping it would have an interesting, helpful purpose to serve the world and all) but blogging is just kind of fun. This girl's a bit of an environmentalist and a full-tilt vegetarian, a bit of an artist who can't draw, a bit of a writer who can't find time to read, and a completely hopeless romantic. She enjoys white chocolate, coloring, wading in creeks, music, Doctor Who, and speaking in third-person when it's unnecessary like this.

Now go read the rest of the blog and meet her, if you like of course. :)