I'm sorry Mitch.

Be warned.

Waterproof eyeliner is the most awful thing to ever grace this planet. It hurts when you try to take it off. I swear I just tore out half of my eyelashes.

My emotions. Oh gosh. Crazy. Ask me how much I hate being a girl right now. 

A lot. 

There is one good thing about being a part of the female gender. Can anyone guess what that is? 

Yup. Males. Or. A male. 

What can I say? I'm a regular human being. I like men. They are hot.

Story.

Once. In second grade. There was the handsome little boy named Mitch Murray. I'm pretty sure that was his name, and hopefully still is his name... He was adorable. He was tall and a male. And well, at second grade that was all I really cared about. The tall factor would come and go based on my personal thoughts of that day. It was the second day of my infatuation for this hunk of a second grader. During recess we would take turns chasing each other. My totally intimidating all girl "gang" would take on his totally dreamy all boy "gang". I really do think one of the boys was in a gang! He wore chains on his jeans. It was heaven, and I was in love. One day, I was chasing around Mr. Murray, but this day was slightly chilly. So he was wearing a multi-colored, semi-puffy jacket. And boy oh boy was he handsome. A thoughtless action and ripped hood later, I realized we were never meant to be together. I had ripped his ever so flattering clothing item, and he ripped my heart. 

I was forever crushed.  

Now I'm 16 though.  And, unfortunately for me, yet fortunately for you, I won't be running around ripping jackets. 

Yes. I do have an infatuation. 

No it's not Mitch Murray.

I'm finding myself singing Taylor Swift. 

This is not good folks.

When we sit in the car, sometimes I look over to try and catch a few glances at his flawless skin. Undoubtedly, he sees my sneaky ways, but then he looks at me. And I giggle a little bit, because, he has fallen into my trap. My trap of clearly seducing him. Not really. I swear. I'm like the least seductive person to live. Once, we kissed, I looked up into his eyes and I died a little inside. There is no other blue that could be better than what is inside those eyes.  And I'm usually a sucker for brown eyes, not blue. So this is saying something. 

He knows I'm giddy about him. 

Now. It's up to that young boy.

He could either decide to ignore me. 

Or.

Not.

Hopefully he chooses the later.    

This is my dance. 

My. I'm completely infatuated with this kid dance. 

Yes. I am missing a sock. 

And no. I don't care.

Right now. I don't really care about anything. Thank you very much.

Y'all come back now.

-Giddy girl.