☆
Fifth grade was the first time I had an interest on a girl.
She'd make me laugh and smile in simple and little ways,
I don't know what was about her that made my eyes sparkle so much
that the joy was infectious
and everyone was also smiling at us.
And now I can think of an answer
to my fifth-grader self,
You did not love her, you silly.
You made her your shield for your insecurities that was growing,
You made her your happy pill
since you don't know how to be one.
It wasn't love.
It was admiration and liking.
You respected her
so you learned how to respect yourself
She thought you many things
by accident.
I'm gonna thank her one day.
It'll make me feel better.
Now i know...
It wasn't a fall, my dear,
It was a catch.
