Note #2
Look, it is just a flower
Just a rose
It sits on the ground
Not meaning to impose
Each petal a word
It can mean a thousand things
Which can write a script
That is beyond my wit
It is so simple
Yet so fleeting
But in this moment
You can see it's meaning
It is meant for a smile
That lasts awhile
Maybe it will lead to something greater
That is for you to decide a little later
I meant to write this story awhile ago, I was waiting for an ending, so here it is.
There is this girl...
She is a runner. She runs up hills, she runs for hours and hours.
A boy sees her, is proud that she runs, to see someone out there, Living.
Boy has a crush.
Through coincidence, girl lives below friend, he sees her there, meets her a few times in passing.
Crazy idea.
Secret admirer.
Notes and roses, left at her porch. Some silly, some sincere, just a few, so few, so few.
The last note, an invitation. Meet me on the dock at the lake at 6.
No responses, no contact, no identities known. Meet at the lake at 6.
The day comes. Heart races. Not in real life. This could never really happen. Not to boy, not to girl.
Legs swinging off the dock, not believing.
The dock, water lapping, time passing.
Water lapping, time passing.
6 passes.
Of course not. It couldn't happen. Not to me. Not to anyone.
Someone paddling in the distance.
Speechless.
Girl arrives. It couldn't happen. Not to me. Not to anyone.
Nervous talk. Surprise. Excitement.
Her number. Her number!
She is gone for a few months. Out of the country. But she will be back.
Boy calls.
Boy calls.
No response.
No response.
Boy finally sees her around town. Girl does not acknowledge him. She won't look. Not at me. Not at anyone. It couldn't happen. Not to me. Not to anyone.
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