Wednesday, Wednesday, Wednesday. WEDNESDAYWEDNESDAYWEDNESDAY! I love, love, love, love, love Wednesdays. I live for Wednesday mornings.
In Guitar Club, Alexandria and I were playing a song that we learned together last year, "Remembering Sunday" by All Time Low. Jordan asked me to teach him how to play it, even though he doesn’t even know the song. I rearranged his fingers into the right chord formations, and he caught on quickly enough. Then, he did the strangest thing. He slid his capo up a few frets and started playing the same chords, only higher.
It was the perfect harmony. It sounded beautiful. We both smiled. We both looked up at the same time, and our eyes met. I didn’t look away. I wanted nothing more than to kiss him in that moment. Was he thinking the same thing? God, I hope so.
Love, love. Love is the answer. Lovelovelovelove I am in LOVE. It’s so new. It’s so exciting. It’s almost suspenseful! "Does he like me or not? Will I ever know? Do I want to know?" I have so much hope. That look in his eyes when they met mine in Guitar Club, that’s the hope. That’s where it comes from. That possibility. The possibility that he just might feel the same way. It’s amazing. I dream about it all of the time. I write, I sing, I do little happy dances, I think about him nonstop, I make up happy endings.
On Wednesdays, I can’t even pay attention in class because I’m still stuck in the first half hour of the day. Stuck in that moment when I entered the room and I felt his eyes on me. Stuck in that moment when our eyes met. Stuck in that moment when he laughed at my attempts at jokes. Stuck in that moment when we walked together in an empty hallway, side by side, and I just wanted to reach over and grab his hand. Wednesday mornings are my getaway, and I can never seem to pull myself back into reality when I need to.
Jordan brings out the brighter side of me, the hopeful side. He’s that beautiful, beautiful harmony that brings out my melody. If he doesn’t want to be mine, then I’m just a simple song, just a combination of four chords. If he’ll let me hold his hand, if he’ll let me hold him and kiss him and love him so much like I want to, my life will be like a love song. He can write the music, I can write the words. He could be the harmony, and I’ll just keep being the melody. We’ll bring out the best in each other. I can see it, I can feel it. I want it happen. I want it so, so bad.
I need to go get it, eventually. When I’m ready. I’m more than ready. But I’m scared. I may be excited about all of this, but in the back of my mind there is indeed doubt. That little voice that asks "Why would he like me? I’m just a fat, awkward, unattractive girl who doesn’t know the first thing about love, and I never will. He won’t want you. Why would anyone want you?"
That voice, those things it says…where do those things come from? What put those thoughts there in the first place? Why do they creep up on me and ruin my day? If you don't know know me well, you might even mistake me for an optimist.
I’m the girl who reads hundreds of posts on GivesMeHope and saves them to my laptop. I’m the girl who writes things like "Smile, because it’s worth it" on the tiled walls of the bathrooms at school. I’m the girl who makes up cute, upbeat songs for the boy she loves. I’m the girl who wants piece, not war. I’m the girl who is determined to get somewhere, the girl who wants the world to know her, starting out with a handful of random strangers that love to read about her life.
But, I’m also the girl who listens to sad songs and feels sorry for herself. But aren’t we all that girl (or guy for that matter) at times? We all feel down sometimes. Some people think that having a bad day is the equivalent to be severely depressed, but it’s not. We all have our bad days. They suck, don’t they? But, a bad day is just twenty-four hours, isn’t it?
Wow.
I am an optimist, aren’t I?
Well, I guess that’s a good thing.
Optimists see the good. Optimists smile even when they think they have no reason to. Optimists can bring up the pessimists. Optimists have their own perspective. Optimists can save lives.
Pretty powerful stuff, right?
Maybe I’m only an optimist on Wednesdays. But hey, look on the bright side. There are always more Wednesdays. :)
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