Last night's game was rough.
I played well enough for the refs to come off and say that I played amazing.
My coach gave me a talk after that. I DO play amazing. Hearing it from coach made me believe it.
My size is a secret weapon.
I'm tougher than I appear.
Here are some thoughts on my boyfriend I wrote during English today when we wrote in journals.
I don’t really know what to say. It’s hard to describe it, you know? It’s like…I like him so much. And everyone’s always like “Well it’s just middle school…you don’t love him.” And I’m just like…
Shut up.
‘Cause I do love him. Just because I’m young doesn’t mean the way I feel is less important; less serious than a college student might feel about one of her classmates. The only reason people don’t want me to say that is because they don’t want to see me get hurt, right? People always get so stupid once they’re in love. I notice it myself. I’ve become one of the most ignorant and carefree people I know, all because I’m in love. The rule is ‘the less intelligent you are, the happier you are’; if that isn’t the truth…
I remember it. The grass was like, wet, sort of. Or the soil underneath it was, so where I was sitting was a little damp. And our hips were touching. I kept moving closer to him; moving into him. He was leaning back on his elbow, messing with the grass. I was ripping the grass on the ground and placing it in piles on him. He was laughing, shyly, like he always does. I was laughing, too. He was squinting, because the sun was reflecting the bright cement on the basketball court. He is actually adorable. I don’t know what I can compare him to. I kept telling him that he was adorable. His reply was, “Thanks, but you’re hotter.” Nice. He knows what to say, in a kind of cheesy way. Which just makes it that much more adorable.
I couldn’t help but smile at him, HUGE. I love being with him. I love him.
It’s weird because our school is so small, and I think most of my (and his) teachers know. What a trip. A lot of people in our school know, too; which I can’t complain about. The thing Is, I hate when other girls act like they’ll take him from me. He has game; he just doesn’t play it when a lot of other girls are around. I think we’re perfect because he’s shy and I’m outgoing. We balance each other out. I sort of make the first move and he plays along. We’re perfect because of that. We just work.
And then again, there’s the part that doesn’t work. It’s the talking. Whenever we’re together, we get sort of awestruck. Like, we’re so in love with each other, we become petrified with a mix of passion and emotion (I know how cheesy I sound right now…but I like cheese) that we just can’t say anything; at all. One time we sat next to each other for one whole period without saying more than a couple sentences; boring sentences. I wish we could talk. I want to hear his voice. I know he wants to hear mine. I just can’t, though. What is there to say? Nothing. Nothing at all…
We text, and IM though. Haha but when we talk it’s so nauseating. He’s so good to me. I hope I’m good to him. I don’t ever want to hurt him. I don’t think he would ever consider hurting me, but there’s always that chance…
That reminds me. He told me about that once. “There’s always a chance of someone ruining us.”
Did he have anyone in mind, at the time?
Bye. <3 x
I played well enough for the refs to come off and say that I played amazing.
My coach gave me a talk after that. I DO play amazing. Hearing it from coach made me believe it.
My size is a secret weapon.
I'm tougher than I appear.
Here are some thoughts on my boyfriend I wrote during English today when we wrote in journals.
I don’t really know what to say. It’s hard to describe it, you know? It’s like…I like him so much. And everyone’s always like “Well it’s just middle school…you don’t love him.” And I’m just like…
Shut up.
‘Cause I do love him. Just because I’m young doesn’t mean the way I feel is less important; less serious than a college student might feel about one of her classmates. The only reason people don’t want me to say that is because they don’t want to see me get hurt, right? People always get so stupid once they’re in love. I notice it myself. I’ve become one of the most ignorant and carefree people I know, all because I’m in love. The rule is ‘the less intelligent you are, the happier you are’; if that isn’t the truth…
I remember it. The grass was like, wet, sort of. Or the soil underneath it was, so where I was sitting was a little damp. And our hips were touching. I kept moving closer to him; moving into him. He was leaning back on his elbow, messing with the grass. I was ripping the grass on the ground and placing it in piles on him. He was laughing, shyly, like he always does. I was laughing, too. He was squinting, because the sun was reflecting the bright cement on the basketball court. He is actually adorable. I don’t know what I can compare him to. I kept telling him that he was adorable. His reply was, “Thanks, but you’re hotter.” Nice. He knows what to say, in a kind of cheesy way. Which just makes it that much more adorable.
I couldn’t help but smile at him, HUGE. I love being with him. I love him.
It’s weird because our school is so small, and I think most of my (and his) teachers know. What a trip. A lot of people in our school know, too; which I can’t complain about. The thing Is, I hate when other girls act like they’ll take him from me. He has game; he just doesn’t play it when a lot of other girls are around. I think we’re perfect because he’s shy and I’m outgoing. We balance each other out. I sort of make the first move and he plays along. We’re perfect because of that. We just work.
And then again, there’s the part that doesn’t work. It’s the talking. Whenever we’re together, we get sort of awestruck. Like, we’re so in love with each other, we become petrified with a mix of passion and emotion (I know how cheesy I sound right now…but I like cheese) that we just can’t say anything; at all. One time we sat next to each other for one whole period without saying more than a couple sentences; boring sentences. I wish we could talk. I want to hear his voice. I know he wants to hear mine. I just can’t, though. What is there to say? Nothing. Nothing at all…
We text, and IM though. Haha but when we talk it’s so nauseating. He’s so good to me. I hope I’m good to him. I don’t ever want to hurt him. I don’t think he would ever consider hurting me, but there’s always that chance…
That reminds me. He told me about that once. “There’s always a chance of someone ruining us.”
Did he have anyone in mind, at the time?
Bye. <3 x
