Place Holder

Sometimes,
When I lay on my back on my bed,
My legs hanging over the edge,
Starring up at my colourful fairy lights,
As music softly plays from my record player,
I feel like someone else.
Someone who is living the stereotypical teenage life.
Someone who has a crush on someone who secretly likes her back,
and she has a perfect life.
In these moments,
I lose myself in my thoughts
while I stare up at my ceiling.
In these moments,
I feel unprecedented joy.
In these moments,
I bask in the soft purple glow of my fairy lights 
as I think of her.
She has no identity.
No face, no name, no voice.
She is not real,
She is a figment of my imagination.
She is simply a place holder until I can find her in real life. 
Until I can find someone to replace her.
But for now,
I think of her.
I imagine taking her out on small sappy dates.
I imagine taking her to the high school football games.
I imagine letting her wear my heavy leather jacket as the chilly autumn wind nips at her cheeks.
I Imagine hugging her from behind and whispering sweet nothings in her ear while the stands of people cheer for their teams. 
I imagine looking at her lovingly as she snuggles into my side,
my jacket far too big for her.
I imagine wrapping my arm around her waist and pulling her close while I place a sickly sweet kiss to her temple.
I imagine walking hand in hand and giggling as people look on with curiosity.
In these moments,
I think of her.
And as I emerge from my thoughts,
I can't help but long for someone
who doesn't even exist.  

Gabby Chisamore

VT

YWP Alumni

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