subject line: I didn't sleep at all the night you kissed me

 

where the music plays, Winsconsin

It’s funny, how often I think that I’m not that girl: not that girl who gets swept up at a music festival and kisses someone she just met, not that girl that a guy sees in the crowd and just starts talking to, not that girl who stays up all night with butterflies in her stomach, dancing around the lead weight of wondering if I should have just gone for it.

Mostly it’s funny because apparently, sometimes, I am that girl.

And I wanted to thank you for letting me be. For seeing me in a crowd of thousands and pulling me into a wobbly, side-of-the-hill dance and then stopping to pull me in a little closer. For laughing and joking and admitting your love of Star Wars and Robert Jordan novels, for the second Jurassic Park movie and that lantern project you made in high school spanish. Thank you for raving about your high school teacher in a way that, as a high school teacher, made me think, yeah, this is one of the good guys (because no one talks about a teacher like that unless they mean it and, frankly, it was adorable).

Thank you for holding my hand and walking around the campgrounds and teasing me. For pulling me into the wet grass in the rain and pushing me a little farther. For stopping when I got nervous and being patient when I wavered. Thank you for letting me go with a kiss and then getting dinner with me a few nights later.

And thank you for not texting afterwards, even, for letting me have one perfect, fun, easy memory of being that girl for once. I’ll never forget her or you.