She

I thought of her today. The funny thing about her is that I remember her name I could type it here and if I ever run into her again I'll be able to call her by name, but I can't spell her name. "It's spelt with an 'H', " she said, "like no one else." This is the sole reason I can't contact her. If I could remember how to spell her name I think we would be friends, maybe even talk occasionally. But I can't. I do know her name if you asked me I would tell you. or I wouldn't, but I could.

I like to think that one day I'll see her again, but the real trouble is getting in contact with her and not dying over her. There was something about her and those moments where I can fall in love even though I shouldn't. I don't know what it is about her I think it is the idea of her. Her beauty, ideals, mystery, and age.

I am going to meet her again. see her again someway.