This Is A Story Of Boy Meets Girl...

I read this story on a blog called Le Love Image, and couldn't help but really like it. I'm not sure if it's because it throws caution to the wind, lets judgement go and rides on passions and whims, or maybe because I can relate; to friends telling you you shouldn't, knowing the boy is bad news, falling anyways.

“This is a story of boy meets girl. But you should know upfront, this is not a love story.” - 500 Days of Summer

It’s true. My story is not a love story. But this represents what I yearn more than ever to be, “a prisoner of the moment.”

I met boy less than two months ago. And it only took me one to fall in love with him. He was handsome, adventurous, intelligent, and could throw sarcastic remarks back as quickly as I could dish them. I wanted to spend all of my time with him. Just thinking about him made my face burst into a smile. He was exciting, and I couldn’t get enough.

But after only three weeks, it ended. He was still in love with his ex-girlfriend, and I would forever not be her. It burned at first. I cried. A lot. I thought about all the things we had done together and all the future plans that would never be.

But as quickly as I had fallen for him, I had bounced back. Three weeks of love meant our relationship was only a glitch in time. But it fit perfectly. I wish to be someone that goes whole-heartedly for what I want, disregarding the consequences. And in this situation, this is exactly what I had done. I had many warnings from friends, telling me I was setting myself up to get hurt. Which I did. But, without that risk, I never would have been able to feel that fire. Three weeks of pure happiness was worth the sadness.

Being a “prisoner of the moment” means that I lead with my wants, and not my rationalities. I go based off instinct, not thinking too far into the future. With boy, I dove in completely and tried to suppress all other thought, the scream telling me to protect myself and back out. I was hurt in the end, but life is too short to care. I can only hope I find this passion again, and that it doesn’t burn out quite so quickly.

- xx, Kelly.

#59 surprise her, visit her when she's sick, hold her, just 'cuz

City Lights On The Water...

What is the very first thing that comes to your mind when you hear the word freedom?

Open water, flying, moving out, finishing school, late nights with no curfew, teenage years, university, leaving the country, starting fresh?

And, well, what is freedom?

I find it's a question, one of many actually, that I'll never have the answer to.

There are many places I've been where I've felt free.

Driving at night on the country roads, the barn, scuba diving, walking down the beach barefoot, yoga in the sun, sailing, even sitting out front of my house when the street is quite at 2am.

That little tug, almost excitement, that calms you - it is quite possibly the strangest most indescribable feeling; it is also quite possibly the greatest most beautifully serene feeling.

That, is what I consider freedom.

The feeling that at this very moment, I'm not worried, no one can touch me, I am happy. That second of total inner peace. That is freedom to me.

- xx, Kelly.

#58 tell her you miss her when you miss her, tell her you love her if you love her, don't tell her you miss or love her if you aren't sure you do

The Way I See It...

nothing more, nothing less.

- xx, Kelly.

#57 pick her up, like in the Notebook, and kiss her

Sometimes...

I like to think, I know everyone is always thinking it's part of our nature, but i like to think about things people don't usually seem to stop and take time for.

I like to slow down,

even just for a couple seconds,

and scribble down those arbitrary thoughts that clutter the back of my mind.

What is love, do we really live for it?

Who am I?

Where does everything go?

Why does time always leave us behind, without going anywhere?

Anxiety, why do you always make your appearance at the worst times?

Why do we trick ourselves into playing silly games?

Why does music mean so much to us? And art?

What would I do without all of this?

Who would I be if I didn't question everything around me?

What makes anyone special?

What makes anyone ordinary?

Who would I be if I knew the answer to even one of these questions?

I guess I couldn't tell you.

And I guess thats okay with me,

I like me the way I am.

- xx, Kelly.

#56 kiss her in the rain

Like An Hourglass Glued To The Table...

There are certain things you can never go back on.

In life, we can never undo what we've done - there is no rewind button. Each decision, every movement, word, thought is final. There is no way to go back on it. It is what it is. We are who we are, because no one can take anything away from us.

Whether we are proud of who we are, regret decisions, words, thoughts, they are what make us, us. Individuals. Isn't that what everyone strives to be? Original, individual, your own person.. unique?

Well, if you think about it, we really are all special, unique, individual thinking persons. No matter what teachers tell you. No english teacher will ever convince me I have nothing worthwhile to say. No professor, dean, employer can tell me that I'm no different from all the rest. Because, you see, I know in my heart of hearts that I am myself. I know, no one will ever replace me, and I can never replace someone else. I am different, special, individual, and unique.

Try telling me I'm not, I dare you.

It's not as if I'll listen.

- xx, Kelly.

#55 surprise her

You're Paper Thin, And It's Visible...

I think every girl has thought this.

It's always funny when the boy admits to it though..

Thank you boys, for the slap in the face, and then the reminder that you did it intentionally.

And this, dear friends, is why I'm quitting boys.

... okay, i say that everyday but I swear, it'll happen.

Eventually.

- xx, Kelly.

#54 brush her hair away from her face before you kiss her