There is a wish, not an actual story

Let me tell you a story. No, I won’t bother you with that. There actually is no story. Not yet and there will never be one, probably. Thing is: I made a wish and I somehow made it on you. Which is totally insane and totally inappropriate and well…it’s me. So yeah, I made wish, and damn my stupidity, I made it on you.

So hi, you don’t know me. Given my history with fate you never will. You’ll never know this stupid little story. But anyway – hi, I’m the awkward woman staring at you whenever you’re not looking. The moron trying to think of excuses every day, just to get by your place. The hopeless one, who’s whole day is brightened if we somehow cross paths. We never talk but it doesn’t seem to me matter. So Yeah, that’s me.

I don’t know much about you. Actually I don’t know anything past your name and a certain hobby we kind of share. So this actually is the whole story. Somehow you got stuck in my head and I can’t seem to get you out. And me being me I also can’t do anything about it. My heart does a little somersault whenever I see you though I try my best to restrain it. It’s sneaky – always doing the little somersault right before my brain kicks in.

So yeah well, again: Hi. Yesterday I saw a comet and I made a wish on you. I actually didn’t make a specific wish. I just saw it, closed my eyes for about two seconds and wished your name. That’s probably the end of this story but…now my stupid heart is even more stuck on you. And I can’t help it or do anything about it. I think I like you.

I’d like to get to know you. Get to know who you are. Though at this point, getting to talk to you would probably be a good start. Yeah I know this is all really negative. I should just stop it. So…sorry…I guess, for all this insanity. I just, I mean I think I…well…like you. That’s actually the whole story.

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