You Are My Wildest Dream

Perfectly Wonderful Soft

As I'm standing in the bathroom, looking at myself in the mirror, I can't help but realize I'm getting into my own head over Hannah. I'm letting my own daydreams ruin a possibly amazing thing, yet again. I'm disappointed in myself because this happens a lot. Here's what happens:

I get a crush. I romanticize everything about her. She becomes the only thing I see, but I don't always hear her. I create this fictional world in my head before I can even properly know someone, and by the time I realize I haven't expressed my feelings of interest to them, it's too late. They're onto someone else. And I just watch. Could you blame them? I mean, seriously. I wait for months and months and play this role of coming across like I don't absolutely want to cry when the girl I barely-know-yet-feel-like-I've-known-my-whole-life-who-is-an-international-successful-gorgeously-perfect-pop-star says I "look good"?! Who doesn't respond to that?! I think I just looked back out the window?!

I'm starting to acknowledge all of the little things Hannah did today to show me she might be interested, too. Or, just friendly. Either way, I'm not doing a good job at showing it back to her. I've been too busy trying to let her watch a version of myself instead of experiencing who I am, emotions and all, firsthand.

I leave the bathroom and make my way back over to the table and see everyone pushing in their chairs as they stand. "Oh, Rowan, we're all set to go. We're just going to take the cruiser to the hotel for the night, unless you want anything else? Takeout? A drink? How about-" I laugh, "Oh no, Paris, I'm totally good! Thank you though, so so so SO much." I give her a hug because she reminds me of my mom with her generous offers and care. "My little superstar!" She says as she hugs me back, and I feel a wave of gratitude for my life turning out this way. At this moment I vow to myself to start showing people my goddamn feelings as I feel them, because why not?

"Is everyone leaving because you made a shitty joke again?" I smirk as I tease Hannah, then put my arm around her shoulder as we walk out. She laughs a little but seems more intrigued by my altered demeanor. "Yeah, you missed it. I told them you were with one of the biggest pop stars on set today, and still haven't told me I'm pretty once." She giggles hard at herself, then breaks away from my embrace, and pretends to pout and stomp her feet as we get into the car. She flips her hair in my face as we climb into the backseat together. "Um, rude. I'll never call you pretty if you keep tossing this absolutely-gorgeous-and-perfectly-wonderful-soft-looking-but-I-wouldn't-know-because-I-have-yet-to-touch-it head of hair in my face again." Hannah pretends the sentence I spoke was written in front of her face and uses her pointer finger to check off each adjective I used. She puts her hand down and looks at me, "If you want something in life, all you have to do is ask." She smoothly reaches for my hand and gently places it up to cup her hair pressed against her cheek. "So, is it soft like you thought?" She asks. "Usually, things are just like I thought, but it's better to feel it."