Our dear verangel has chosen the following words in June (shame on me for being that late...):
squeal, slow motion, melting, step, noon, wrong.
There it is – the unmistakable squealing tires of his GTO. When he gets out and slowly comes closer it looks to me like he is moving in slow motion.
I press myself against a wall of snow …to hide, why I can not say – tough I’m so longing to see him. My hands burn from the cold, the snow beneath them begins to melt.
My heart races, I have to close my eyes … to force myself to breath.
No he’s gone, I can’t see him anymore.
I even don’t understand myself.
Maybe I should go one small step on him. This isn’t forbidden, right?
But it would take courage. Much courage.
Why can’t I be one of the 4 musketeers? Or Aragorn? Or Spiderman?
Why do I feel so nervous? Nothing happened, nothing at all.
I’ll probable see him at noon. The time until then will pass too slow, the minutes will feel like hours.
But I’m myself to blame.
Perhaps I should really do something… to figure out what’s wrong with me.