Foolish Boy

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Romance  |  House: Booksie Classic
The time in which I have invested in writing this article about her, I could have been telling her this in person. But, i believe that the words in which i have written in honor of her would suffice my yearning for her.

Submitted: December 10, 2011

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Submitted: December 10, 2011

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When you regret anything, it is in that moment of regret that you realize just how ignorant and greedy you truly are. I look at her everyday beautiful, elegant, and full of promises. Why oh why god did I not see this before? What blinded me from this radiance? She agreed to accompany me on a date, but what was it I couldn’t give into? Speaking in retrospect I find that she had changed, certainly she had changed, but the change wasn’t so drastic from homely to beauty. It was always beauty that I saw with her but now beauty has become her. So what was it about this mistress that I didn’t give into? She was beautiful before and ever so more now. It has to do with me of course. Yes certainly it was I! But, what is it? To deepen my understanding of this deep regret, I must venture through the place humans most deny and hate. The flaws of men. Oh! The most dangerous things about a person, but without, the world would undoubtedly become a regular bore. Promiscuousness is the flaw in which I have decided to be the cause of my suffering. I was too greedy, I wasn’t satisfied with just her, and I wanted more. More! I wanted to be that man of dreams, the man in the wake of every girl’s dreams. Now my dreams are denied, my dreams of holding her in my arms, my dreams of caressing her delightful face, my dreams of being able to kiss her snowy cheeks. My dreams are all denied to me. I curse the heavens in vain. It wasn’t the heavens that brought this upon me, but it is my foolish nature that I must curse at. I look at her everyday vexed and disappointed with my conduct. But admiring her as such I have a fear. The fear of having been away from her for so long and fantasizing about her from afar; that within my fantasy she has become too perfect that the real she would fail in expectations. So I must take a minute to recall all my senses, and behold her as she is now, to assure myself she is still the being of my adoration. I sit two seats behind her; I can only witness her beauty from the back of her hair. Her long golden brown locks flowing down smoothly and simply. Simple! That was it, the thing I most adore about this beauty. She is a beauty, no doubt, but she is my simple beauty. Everything about her, simple and graceful, her face not overwhelmed with fraud, her well-tailored appearance, she never bared skin of seduction. She was simple and beautiful. The readers now reading this article have two opinions of her; she is too perfect to be real and this author is completely obsessed and distraught; the other is she is the girl of every man’s fantasy. Let me make this clear to you my dear readers. She is very much real and she is the goddess of my fantasy. In which your doubts, I presume, are flaws I have not yet spoken of. Her flaws may invite you further or chase you away. But, I bid you to reconsider, for her flaw does not fail her beauty. Her body is exquisite; she has curves of a true woman the lump of her butt not large but easily enough to entice men. Her breasts are small and humble. If these may be flaws to you then I must wonder what has become the sad taste of men. Her voice is deep, but still clear of woman. It is this deep voice that I sense sincerity, that in her words she means what she says. I admire her not upon the conduct of her beauty, but I admire her in which her beauty does not affect her conduct. It seems to me though she has not yet grasps this effect. The effect she has induced not only to me but everyone around her. The beautiful act of maturity and kindness she has displayed can testify to the conduct in which I admire her. She shies away praises and humbly refutes compliments, innocently simple. If these may also be flaws to you my dear readers, then reading up until now you have no sense of my suffering and the essence of her true beauty.


© Copyright 2017 Dominc Triminh. All rights reserved.

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