He created a poet inside of me | Teen Ink

He created a poet inside of me

November 11, 2009
By Sar27 SILVER, Saint Charles, Illinois
Sar27 SILVER, Saint Charles, Illinois
5 articles 0 photos 14 comments

We knew each other before. Strange how people crop up in your life. He was a pretty annoying little kid. I always thought he reminded me of a monkey, running back and forth. I also remember his dark hair and skin.

Now his hair looks like chocolate and his skin looks like cinnamon. He is much taller than the monkey I knew. His shoulders are broader too. But now I noticed something I’ve never paid attention to before. Him.

The only time I ever thought of him was when I would see him going by being obnoxious and I would say “Oh, there goes Matt again.” Now I see him everyday at ballet; but obnoxious is the last word I would use.

“What was your first impression of me?” he asked me one day.

“I didn’t have much of an impression of you since I was too busy being surprised that we knew each other as children. You look a lot different now that we are older,” I smiled.

Another time he asked, “Who do you think has the best body in our class, of the boys?”

“Probably Jack I guess. But that is because he is a lot older and he has grown more than any of us. I mean, he can lift any of the girls up over his head.”

“I know I’ve said this before, but does anybody ever talk about me?” he asked.

“For the thousandth time, no!” I laughed. “You have to stop being so insecure. You are a great guy,” I said.

I realized it was true. That night I couldn’t stop thinking of him. He occupied every spare thought. And every unspare thought. I became useless. I couldn’t do anything because he kept popping up in my head.

The next day I read his horoscope as well as mine. Would there be any clue as to his love life in it?

One day I realized I really was in love. I couldn’t stop singing “I Feel Pretty” from the musical West Side Story. One line goes “Feel like running and dancing for joy- For I’m loved by a pretty wonderful boy!”

I started writing poetry. I hate poetry. It is difficult for me to read, and writing it was beyond belief. Who knew I would start paying attention to rhyme and meter.

When I was with him I felt comfortable. He wasn’t the kind of person to raise my passions or to swoon over. But he was kind. He was thoughtful. He was wonderful.

One day we were walking to the train after ballet class was over, with two other girls. We were joking about hairstyles. He said he wanted to shave a design in his head. I suggested he shave ‘I heart S.W.’ He laughed and said “I love you, but not in that way!”

I dropped behind the three of them because I had gone into shock. Eventually they started to ask me what was wrong.

One girl joked, “Is it because Matt said he didn’t love you?” I tried to laugh even though I was crying and said, “No, but I am disappointed he won’t shave my initials into his head.”

I wrote three poems when I got home. One of them had to do with my heart being pierced by a stiletto.

Two days later, I was in love again. I wrote another poem. This time it was a sonnet and the ending couplet said, “Every night I pray to my God above/ Do what you want; please just give me your love.”

On Tuesday I summoned up the courage to tell him how I felt. I said, “I really like you. And I was hoping...that you like me too.” It turns out he knew already, because I told one of my friends why I had been crying that day, and she told him. I don’t blame her. She was probably just trying to help. He wanted to know what was the matter with me and she explained.

Anyways. He told me he just wanted to be friends. I wrote a footnote to my sonnet later that night. It said, “Forget about what I said./ I won’t forget what you said.”

I still read his horoscope to see if there are any clues about his love life for the day.


The author's comments:
This is what happened when I first fell in love. That is how I came to writing.

Similar Articles

JOIN THE DISCUSSION

This article has 1 comment.


Meli138 said...
on Apr. 1 2010 at 10:37 pm
Meli138, GP, Texas
0 articles 0 photos 56 comments

Favorite Quote:
"Like a bird with broken wings its not how high he flies but the song he sings"
"Everybody live like its the last day you will ever see tell me tell me do you feel the pressure now?"

This was a really good story (:

i like that even though she got hurt, he helped her in a way :)