anyway.

the point is that i drove by and was thinking about him and, remembering that he smokes i check the front of the building to see if perchance he might be there . . . sure enough. he was out front. hands shoved deep in his pockets, looking hot as all hell.

and the way i reacted to this, the leaping of my heart up into my throat and all that jazz, that upset me. i don't want to like him this way. i don't want to like any boy this way. it just leads to me getting hurt. it scares me.

but i can't help it. i can't stop thinking about him. ever. when i close my eyes . . . i see his.

past. : present. : future.