Dear Luke
So I went to the skate park yesterday, just like I said I would.
And you were there. And I don’t think I’ve ever run so fast in my life.
I saw your blond hair before anything else; standing taller than hair should be capable of standing. I had this incredible urge to just touch it, and I know it sounds weird… I just wanted to know that you were real, you were there and not some figment of my imagination.
You were by yourself, on your little chair, only you weren’t holding that beat up old skateboard… You were strumming a guitar lazily, and singing along so perfectly. It was beautiful Luke; I didn’t want to disturb you.
Honestly I would have listened to you forever.
You heard me take a seat in front of you I think, you had your eyes closed, but you smiled and shook your head when I sat down. I clapped when you were done, cheered even.
We talked for a long time. At one point you gave me your jacket. I blushed then, Luke. I never blush. I put my head on your shoulder, and your hand found its way around my waist.
I swear it was the most perfect picture I’d ever been in.
I asked for your number that day, but you somehow changed the subject… Why did you do that Luke? You’re like a ghost. We talk and talk but it’s so empty. Am I being greedy? Am I asking for too much Luke?
We made a time to meet again… What are we even doing Luke?
Sometimes I just wonder.
Ps. You really ought to do something with that voice of yours…
Love,
Calamity xx
