Status: Complete - Inactive
Bri & Alfie
The most important thing to have when dealing with a girl like Brianna Janowski is a sense of urgency. She's like a cartoon character hyped up on sugar and adrenaline and rainbows. You have to keep up or else you'll be left behind and forgotten. And I mean, I know that sounds bad, but it's not really. She doesn't do it on purpose. Bri just has a short attention span, that's all. She'll get bored with you and move on. She doesn't realize how much you care. And I mean, it's not bad really, it's just the way she is.
You see, I'm eighteen, and I've lived next door to Bri since I was three months old. That's a long time to know someone. And I know this is going to sound kind of stupid, but the first time I actually realized that Bri was a girl was when I was four. We both went to the same preschool, and we were swinging on the tire swing during recess, because we always swung on the tire swing during recess, and out of nowhere she points at my shoulder and shouts,
"Alfie, there's a butterfly on you, make a wish!"
I had never known someone to make a wish on a butterfly before, and I've never known someone to do so since then, but as I came to learn, Bri made wishes on everything; butterflies, clouds, broken shoelaces, green cars, and everything in between.
There was a lot of wind that day. It almost knocked us over as we walked across the woodchips to the swing set. Bri's blonde hair was waving in her face, and her bangs were all askew. She was wearing this pink jacket that looked like a watermelon with a green hood and black buttons, and she had on these little Sketchers that lit up when she walked. I remember thinking that she was the prettiest girl alive.
I know that all girls say that when they were little they thought boys were gross, and boys say that they thought girls were gross, but I never thought that. Foreign and mysterious? Yes. But gross? Never.
We climbed onto the tire swing and I spun us in circles because it made Bri laughed and I liked to make Bri laugh even though spinning in circles made me all dizzy. We swung on the tire swing every day at recess because Bri's favorite was the monkey bars, but I was too afraid to go on them, and my favorite was the sandbox but Bri's mom didn't like her to play in there because there were too many germs. We were best friends though so we couldn't play without each other, so we found the tire swing, which wasn't too high and wasn't too germy. Every day we swung on the tire swing, but it was at that moment when Bri pointed at my shoulder and shouted,
"Alfie, there's a butterfly on you, make a wish!" that I realized that Brianna Janowski was a girl, foreign and mysterious and confusing and everything else good in the world. It was at that moment when Bri pointed at me, giggling as the wind almost knocked us over, that I realized that Brianna Janowski was a girl and that I was hopelessly in love with her.
You see, I'm eighteen, and I've lived next door to Bri since I was three months old. That's a long time to know someone. And I know this is going to sound kind of stupid, but the first time I actually realized that Bri was a girl was when I was four. We both went to the same preschool, and we were swinging on the tire swing during recess, because we always swung on the tire swing during recess, and out of nowhere she points at my shoulder and shouts,
"Alfie, there's a butterfly on you, make a wish!"
I had never known someone to make a wish on a butterfly before, and I've never known someone to do so since then, but as I came to learn, Bri made wishes on everything; butterflies, clouds, broken shoelaces, green cars, and everything in between.
There was a lot of wind that day. It almost knocked us over as we walked across the woodchips to the swing set. Bri's blonde hair was waving in her face, and her bangs were all askew. She was wearing this pink jacket that looked like a watermelon with a green hood and black buttons, and she had on these little Sketchers that lit up when she walked. I remember thinking that she was the prettiest girl alive.
I know that all girls say that when they were little they thought boys were gross, and boys say that they thought girls were gross, but I never thought that. Foreign and mysterious? Yes. But gross? Never.
We climbed onto the tire swing and I spun us in circles because it made Bri laughed and I liked to make Bri laugh even though spinning in circles made me all dizzy. We swung on the tire swing every day at recess because Bri's favorite was the monkey bars, but I was too afraid to go on them, and my favorite was the sandbox but Bri's mom didn't like her to play in there because there were too many germs. We were best friends though so we couldn't play without each other, so we found the tire swing, which wasn't too high and wasn't too germy. Every day we swung on the tire swing, but it was at that moment when Bri pointed at my shoulder and shouted,
"Alfie, there's a butterfly on you, make a wish!" that I realized that Brianna Janowski was a girl, foreign and mysterious and confusing and everything else good in the world. It was at that moment when Bri pointed at me, giggling as the wind almost knocked us over, that I realized that Brianna Janowski was a girl and that I was hopelessly in love with her.