All the things he said, and all the time they spent together repeated over and over and over and over. Her heart got big thinking about this person who, with only a few times in reality spent together, but when they did, everything just flowed. Half the time it was like they were in their own little bubble, the rest of the world switched off cos they they were deep in talk, or she was making him laugh with her random humor.
But at times, they wouldn’t talk for days or weeks, and when they talked online, or in person, it was like her soul filled up with love and she was happy because she had had a fill of him. Or there were times where she picked up on his feelings like when her ex would be giving her a hard time, she would write poetically about it on her blog, and she knows, without a doubt, that he wants her to feel him, the way she’s felt the way about others.
She kicked her desk in frustration, thoughts overwhelming her. She needed an outlet to express her feelings. Plugging in her strat, she cranked up the volume, twin humbuckers picking up her emotional brooding and transmuting it into heavy fuzz. Up and down the fret board her hand went, her heavy mind letting loose.
And all this stuff about not being in a relationship with anyone cos she’s been burned in the past, had enough of moody boys, didn’t need their drama. She was at the point of not giving a fuck about it at all anymore, there was no one she wanted but him, she realised now how much he was to her and she can’t let him go without knowing how deep and intense his love is.
Her only challenge now, was to keep cool whenever she saw him. Try really hard to stay friends, and not grab him, kiss him and tell him how much she fucking adored him.