My Lost Boy

I am shy, but at the same time I know how to flirt. I am sad, most of the time. I have been misunderstood by many because of the way I do things. I do what I want, and I do not intend to please anyone. I just like to do what I what, when I want it. I am lover of love, I long to be in love; to feel that sparks and butterflies in my stomach that makes me cry and takes my breath away. I am a romantic person, and I long to have someone to give my love, my attention, my all, my life, my name. Until now, I haven’t found that someone. I feel lost, angry, and alone. I want that someone to whom I can feel connected, someone I can share my sadness and fears, my happiness, my success. I know, I am different. I am lost in my own world where I am locked with sadness and indifference.

I am musician, yes. I am singer, I compose music and make them. I love to feel that love through my music, I love to give my love to someone I can call my own. But I am sad, so sad, I hurt. People don’t understand me.

There’s this girl name Rosalie, she’s smart, sexy and she smells good like jasmine. She have that smile that makes me forget the hurt and loneliness I feel inside me. She have that look that makes me feel uncomfortable. She looks at me like she knows me. I don’t like her, but I like talking to her. She’s different from the others. She doesn’t seem to be intimidated by me, and I hate her for that. When she looks at me, I feel embarrass. I can’t even look at her eyes. I don’t even want to look into her eyes because I am afraid she can read my mind.