Dear... in headlights

Dear Jon -

I looked at myself in the bathroom mirror; my eyes are tired and rimmed in red and black. I took the pin from my hair and let the curls fall down to cover my face, and thought of you.

I thought of you because this morning, as I contemplated walking in a mess, I thought of you and twisted my hair up. You are the inspiration and the let down.

I saw you at school, today - you heading out as I was heading in. It was startling close to the fantasy's beginning, where you see me and take my hand, and ask me to come with you, obligations be damned. They weren't damned, today. I hope you saw my lovely hair from the distance across the lot. You raised your hand to me in acknowledgment, and I raised mine back.

I have your CD and need to give it back. I'm contemplating a txt tomorrow night, something like: I have your CD. Let me bring it over. I promise not to hit on you. I have beer and poetry.

Will I have the courage?

Soon, I'll have to post about "that night."

- M.