May 19, 2010

Daydreams. Oh, daydreams. The things they do.

I want him. I want Mr. Perfect. The one who will hold me, love me, help me, spoil me. The one who will let me cry on his shoulder whenever I need it.

I want to fall in love.

13 years of age, and wishing for love.

At least to experience it.

Something like a story... all the romance... all the love.

Do you ever wish you were older? 30 years. By then, you've most likely gotten married and had kids. Experienced love.

I'm not wishing my life away, but for one day, just one day, I want to live it. To know what it feels like to have a soulmate, there for you, whenever, FOREVER.

Or even that first kiss.

Whether it's expected or totally uncalled for, I just want it to happen. Some say I'm too young. Some say it should've already happened. I'm just making a wish that my year will come rather soon. My year of romance. My year of fiction. My year of meaning, of memories, of experiences.

Boys. They take over our life, I swear.

And when you picture this with who you think is "Mr. Perfect" at the time, you build so much up... and, right before your eyes, it falls. You get your hopes up for nothing. So many chances you had right in front of you... and letting them, seeing them, go.

Or, it could go the opposite direction, and lead to something amazing. Something worth your thoughts, tears, whatever suits you.

Just take the chances.

If you don't go after what you want, you'll never have it. If you don't ask, the answer is always no. If you don't step forward, you're always in the same place.

Don't worry about moving slowly. Worry about standing still.

You never know until you try.