1. The guy that I like? Well last month I really liked a guy with shoulder-long blonde hair and a bass guitar in his hands, wearing leather pants and black boots. I wanted to hit on him but I was too shy and you could see that he wasn’t loved for his deep and meaningful thoughts. Before that I liked a guy; also blonde but his eyes were like the surface of the ocean under the sunlight. He was such a clever guy with huge ambitions. His future was just as bright as his pretty eyes. And before you’d think that I fall for the “my blonde prince will come” kind of cliché, I don’t. Because right before that, I liked a dark haired and dark eyed, Tumblr-looking guy with no plans, no expectations, no commitments. He was the trouble you needed to feel like you were young and wild once. Back in elementary school, there was another guy. Dark hair but light eyes, occasionally changing from blue to green. I’m still trying to forget that crush. Anytime anyone comes over, the first question right after my grades is “so what’s up with the boys?”, followed by an awkward smile full of regrets, embarrassment and anxiety. “Are they still stupid?” Let me tell you another secret. Boys can be stupid, yes. But they will never be that kind of stupid that you’re referring to. No one ever can be “stupid” enough to be left behind. Have you seen the movie “Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind”? If you haven’t yet, you definitely should. Cause I’m just like Joel. I’m not an attention-seeking little girl, I can just fall in love easily. Because I can love everyone who shows me the smallest kind of kindness. But am I really in love? Probably not. And how do I know that? Because everytime I liked someone, I thought, I would never be able to forget any of it, any of them. But I did, because now I like a guy with long, blonde, curly hair and a pleasant, awkward smile and eyes, the eyes that can dig deep into your soul. He’s short, like me and I know he’s more of a cat person just from the way he looks at people and I’d think it’s a problem, because I’m more of a dog person but it wouldn’t be because actually, we could have both. We’d cuddle on the couch with some beer in our hands and I wouldn’t like its taste but still I would drink it and we’d watch horror movies and I’d be afraid but I would laugh to make fear seem less scary. I’d send him pictures of animals that I meet on the street but we’d spend the nights having conversations about life and just generally contemplating ours because we’d both be night-thinkers and day-dreamers. We’d go for rides in the middle of nowhere and I’d be afraid but he’d keep me going and I’d love it. He would sing to me and I would listen as there weren’t any other voices in the whole world. He’d tell me I was beautiful and I’d tell him he was beautiful too and if you think boys can’t be beautiful then you have clearly never seen such a beauty as him. He would be a piece of art and I’d be the one trying to paint it but I couldn’t because he would be so much more than I ever could be. But he’d love me, and I’d love him even more. So how do I know it’s not love? Because next month I will think the same only of another guy. Because this cruly piece of beauty has already forgotten me but I know I never will because he was a part of my life and I tried to change for him, for the better. It’s weird, because I have never even shared a word with any of them. And you know what? It has never mattered.
from the book that I might never write
