Leanne. I wouldn't say she's my girlfriend. Not anymore. But she was once. We are trying to put the pieces back together. I love her...I know that much...I always have. We broke things off when I came to Greenville.
I'll be the first to admit that she is smarter than me...as far as book smarts go. I always knew she would get into a better school than me, not withstanding her financial situation. She grew up fairly privileged. Her father's a pharmacist. He owns and manages four pharmacies, among other various properties of land that he owns. For lack of a better word she's loaded. She applied to around seven other schools, as opposed to my one. She got accepted to six. She's had a hard time setting on just one but has come to the conclusion that UGA is the one for her. As much as I hate the distance that it will put between us, I'm proud of her. She really is the black sheep of her parents offspring and she needs to get away from them...but I don't want her away from me. I love this girl with every ounce of my being.
She's a dancer, Leanne. A good one. She has a dancer's body. Red brown hair, with a single, solitary blonde streak that makes itself visible in the summer when the sun naturally bleaches her hair...I like that streak. She has freckles, but not to many to take away from the natural beauty that exudes from her face...the kind of beauty that will only get more beautiful with time. Her eyes are big, blue, sometimes green with this hazel brown burst around the edges, and are actually flecked with the freckles that start on her face. I fall into those eyes for days. We stopped talking when I came to this damn school. A mistake. I think about her everyday from the moment I wake from sleep, 'till I'm dreaming the night away.
We are picking up the pieces...
"I am thinking it's a sign that the freckles
In our eyes are mirror images and when
We kiss they're perfectly aligned
And I have to speculate that God himself
Did make us into corresponding shapes like
Puzzle pieces from the clay..."
-The Postal Service
I'll be the first to admit that she is smarter than me...as far as book smarts go. I always knew she would get into a better school than me, not withstanding her financial situation. She grew up fairly privileged. Her father's a pharmacist. He owns and manages four pharmacies, among other various properties of land that he owns. For lack of a better word she's loaded. She applied to around seven other schools, as opposed to my one. She got accepted to six. She's had a hard time setting on just one but has come to the conclusion that UGA is the one for her. As much as I hate the distance that it will put between us, I'm proud of her. She really is the black sheep of her parents offspring and she needs to get away from them...but I don't want her away from me. I love this girl with every ounce of my being.
She's a dancer, Leanne. A good one. She has a dancer's body. Red brown hair, with a single, solitary blonde streak that makes itself visible in the summer when the sun naturally bleaches her hair...I like that streak. She has freckles, but not to many to take away from the natural beauty that exudes from her face...the kind of beauty that will only get more beautiful with time. Her eyes are big, blue, sometimes green with this hazel brown burst around the edges, and are actually flecked with the freckles that start on her face. I fall into those eyes for days. We stopped talking when I came to this damn school. A mistake. I think about her everyday from the moment I wake from sleep, 'till I'm dreaming the night away.
We are picking up the pieces...
"I am thinking it's a sign that the freckles
In our eyes are mirror images and when
We kiss they're perfectly aligned
And I have to speculate that God himself
Did make us into corresponding shapes like
Puzzle pieces from the clay..."
-The Postal Service
