Dear handsome guy at the concert, with the long hair,
I couldn't focus on the music, because you filled my head. For an hour and a half I was so conscious of your presence beside me. It turned me on like h***. I could almost feel your skin. I wanted you.
You're a musician- I know it.
Every time a piece ended you turned and smiled at me- a beautiful smile that displayed your perfect teeth. I smiled back every time. It sent a tingle of desire through me. I wanted to say something when it was over. I almost did- I didn't. I waited for you. You left.
I touched myself to the thought of you that night.
Seven months later, a percussion fill-in teacher comes to the school for a week.
I shake hands with him. He's got this gorgeous smile and this beautiful, long curly hair. It's at the tip of my tongue. I met you, I mean, saw you, here before- didn't you go to that concert? Or, Kazakh music is so interesting, there was this concert last december...
The longer I wait, the more ridiculous I feel it would sound.
I never said it.
You disappeared as quickly as you did that day.
And it still kills me to wonder if you remembered me too.