When I'm Gone, Will You Find Yourself?

When I'm Gone, Will You Find Yourself?

"Peter Jennings.

That little bastard.

We met in high school, as the story tells.

In the halls of New Britain High.

I was a young one; quite foolish as well. With sad eyes and a curious mind.

He had that smile; it turned heads in both directions- closer and farther away.

Trouble, indeed.

But inviting.

He smeared my lipstick as well as my mascara; he ripped off my glasses or caused me to adjust them."

I wiped a tear.

I brushed my fingers against the black ink bearing my wrist.

"Now where was I? Oh, yeah. Peter.

He came up to me one day as I strode down an empty hall.

'So, what's the name? Delilah, right?' He stood in my path.

'Damn right.' I flared my sassy trait, a gift from my great grandmother.

'So, Delilah, what's your poison?'

'Anything with rum, actually.' I mirrored his smirk.

'You're in luck, I have anything and a splash of rum with your name on it. Meet me here, 7 sharp.' He kissed my cheek, that flirt. He turned to walk away.

'I'm a lady, you pick me up. At 6:30 sharp, too.' I snapped.

'You're not the only girl around. I can stand at the corner and get anybody.' He bragged.

'While you're working the corner, I'll get going. Deuces!'

'Alright, alright. Enough with the insults. See ya.' I bit my lip and smiled as he turned around and headed in the opposite direction.

'And stop smiling!' He called in that Connecticut accent that dropped girl's panties at the sound of it.

What was I getting myself into?

I remember the day well. I was wearing my favorite sweater, skinny jeans, and boots. I had my blonde, bouncy hair curled and pinned back.

Peter, good old Peter.

He wore that smirk, of course, with his hair messily styled; he was an edgy, sexy, msterious heart throb."

'I miss you,' I whispered to the air as I prayed,

Silently, hopefully, prayed,

To hear a simple

'I miss you too'.

Note: If you're confused; keep reading, you will find out who she is talking to pretty soon. Okay? Bye bye!(: