Post-Its

There is a slight chance that we may fall dangerously and irrevocably in love. Will you be my friend? Our favorite form of communication: Yellow Post-it notes. Yes, that would be wonderful! All that separates us is a gray wall. How did you know I was coming? I go past you again. I saw your spiky hair. My accomplishment: being your BFF. Your accomplishment: making me laugh. All polar bears are left handed, is this a fact? Yes! I anticipate your next note, looking up to see your hand reaching over to my side of our wall. My little world invaded by you. If I could have a giant question mark above my head I would. I stick your notes in book, safely hidden away. I’m collecting these. So I’m not the only one. Why did the chicken cross the road? Pretending I don’t know you’re sitting there, imagining you watching me not watching you. Disappointment, seriously? To attack you. You come to visit me, no one else does. No, to go to the strange person’s house. You comment on my outfit, don’t blush don’t blush don’t blush. Strange person? Knock knock. That lady is there with you, effectively stopping our Post-it exchange. Who’s there? Of course I wonder what you think of me. The chicken! You lean against the wall. A candy missile comes at me, coming from the other side of the gray wall. Do you have a dictionary? Do I have your heart? Do I?

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