Once upon a time, there was a boy named William. Brown hair, blue eyes, tall, and of course, as perfect as he could be. He had the most charming, brightest smile a human being could have plastered on their face.
Then, you’d find girls like me.
And no, I’m not talking about the girls cheerleading for their football team, nor the girls whose biggest rumor is who she made out with. I’m talking about the girls whose biggest insecurity is her own mental illness. About the girls who hide in their confort zone, too scared to step out but then cry about all the things they wished they’d done in the past, when they had the chance.
That’s how I am. I’m fucked up. I’m cramped inside my own mind; my own lifelong prison of anxious overthinking.
If you’d ask a person, “Would these two types of human beings fit together?” The answer would be “no”.
If you’d ask me, I would say no. I would close my eyes, take a deep breath and smile so no one would see my heartache, because of him. That person, that boy I described to you above, I’m in love with him. And I don’t know what to do.
I look at him and the second my eyes lay on his face, my facial expression softens; I smile, I grin at him like a stupid toddler, because he makes me feel like I just discovered my favorite food. He makes me feel lightweight, like I’m above the clouds, watching the sunset together with him. He makes me feel like I worthy for love, like I deserve to feel that way, to finally be the one that feels overwhelmingly much love for someone so normal, it makes you wonder, “How did that happen?”
But no one knows the answer.

© Dorothea.S