


I'm just going to admit it. Put it out there into the void. Because I feel like if I put down on paper (or, in this case, on blog) it becomes real - no longer a whispered secret or a nagging thought.
My infatuation with Perfect Boy Whom I am Infatuated With is merely that: an infatuation. I want to know him. I want to be his friend. He's an interesting creature. The truth is this: Perfect Boy Whom I am Merely Curious About is a cover-up for the truth.
I am in love with someone else and I am terrified.
There. Now it's real.
All my love,
Addy
1 comment:
you are lovely
& i enjoy your blog, thoroughly.
Post a Comment