Dear Boy,I would like to tell you a story, and it goes a little something like this:
It was one day, a little while ago that I saw you; it was one day, a little while ago that I was struck by you. Those butterflies everyone talks about seemed to congregate in my stomach, anxiety, excitement, fear - the whole nine yards. You were soo easy to talk to, not a mean bone in your body. You made me laugh, made me smile, made me want you to want me around you. Made me want you, period.
Dear Boy,
Do things always get complicated? It seemed so easy, so relaxed and fun - and dare I say, right? Boy, I know I'm no Adriana Lima, I may not be the most free spirited, funny person you've ever met, and I may be a bit different from the average ideal girl; but was I really this wrong about everything on top of this? Did I really miss the mark by that much?
Dear Boy,
From the moment I met you, I knew you were bad news. No questions asked, no information necessary; everything about you screamed RUN!, but I couldn't move. Every inch of my body was drawn to you when you gave me that first smile, and that scheming wink. I wasn't thinking, but boy was I feeling. From the moment I met you, I knew how things would end.
Dear Boy,
I don't know what to tell you; whether I tell you exactly what I feel, or I wait. Things get complicated, but still things stay simple, easy almost. From the moment I met you, I knew you were trouble; from the moment I met you, I knew it wasn't the trouble that would hurt me.
- xx, Kelly.
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