One Hundred Letters for James

007

007:

Camps

(I wrote you a nice long letter the other day. Will you please write back?)

In the summer between Grade Three and Four, my crush on you first began. We went to camp together that month, and I though we would have some beautiful summer romance, despite our age. I packed my nicest clothing, and cutest jewelry.

When we got to camp, I was immediately known as the stupid girl that wore fancy clothes for tug-of-war.

I was sad because you had no problem making friends and leaving me behind, alone.

I had created an elaborate plan that would ensure your falling in love with me. It involved idiotic things like flirting and eyelash fluttering.

Then it finally came down to the last step. I had one of your friends tell you to meet me by the campfire that burned almost 24/7. You were supposed to see me looking beautiful and automatically confess your love for me.

But that didn't happen.

"What do you want, Kathleen?" You said, trudging up the hill to me.

"Just come!" I had worn my favorite pink dress with a straw hat and sandals that day, just to impress you. I wanted to impress you. You just came up to me and sneered;

"Nice hat, loser." I had heard my heart fall.

"What, you don't like it?" I asked, posing with it.

"Well, let me see it." I obliged, pulling it off of my head and handing it to you. Then you threw it into to the campfire before running away to your cabin, leaving me alone on that damn hill.

I didn't cry. I just sat on the ground and watched the hat burn.

(Two fears today because they were rather short. I would love some feedback!)