I have this habit — I keep things I should delete.
Old texts. Missed calls. Half-burnt photos stuck in the back of my drawer.
Little ghosts I can't seem to bury properly.
But today — well, tonight, because I can't sleep for shit — I'm doing something different.
I grabbed a piece of paper, a pen, and just decided: screw it. Let's write it all down. All the clutter in my head, the chaos, the soft spots I don't say out loud.
Everyone wants a perfect love story, right?
Me?
I don't even know if I'd call what's happening a story yet. It's a mess. There's love in it, maybe. Tension, definitely. A pinch of heartbreak on the horizon — who knows? Maybe even betrayal. But for now, it's just me, talking to myself. Writing to no one. Or maybe to her. Or maybe to the version of me that isn't too much of a coward to do what I know I should do.
So yeah — like I said — I keep things I should let go of. And lately…
There's this girl.
I've seen her around. A few times here, there — bumping into her felt like fate playing casual.
She caught my eye. And once that happens with me, it's over. I'm hooked, orbiting her like she's my personal sun and I'm just some lost satellite hoping she doesn't notice how close I get.
Apparently — plot twist — she doesn't live too far from where I rot.
Nice, right? Convenient for my late-night thoughts and poorly disguised "accidental" run-ins.
I did a little digging. Call it creeping if you want — I won't argue. Harmless recon: scrolled through her Facebook (private, classy), watched her music taste when she thought no one was looking. We have taste in common — that's my excuse.
Then the other day — man, the universe did me a favor.
Picture me: hoodie up, cap low, tucked in a corner like a cliché stalker from some cheap novel I'd roast if I wasn't living it. Just… watching her. Not in a bad way. Okay, maybe in a slightly weird way — sue me.
Then out of nowhere, a friend calls out to her. I can't make out the name at first. My heart's being an idiot, and the city won't shut up.
Then — clear as daylight:
"Lexie!"
God, the way that name hit.
Lexie.
Beautiful name for a beautiful girl who doesn't even know she's the main character in my head.
I repeated it all the way home like I was trying to tattoo it on my tongue. Lexie. Lexie. Lexie. Over and over — embarrassing, yeah, but whatever.
So here I am — back home, ink bleeding these thoughts into my dumb notebook.
Hey, journal — her name's Lexie. Which… wow. Suits her. Haven't heard that in forever. It's soft but sharp. Mysterious. Like lilies you find blooming where no one planted them.
Next step?
Gather up what's left of my courage, walk up to her, and say anything.
Just hi.
Just hey, you're Lexie, right? Hi. I exist. Nice to meet you.
Basic human stuff. Stuff people do every day.
But me?
I make it complicated because I live in my head more than I live in the world.
So for now — it's just this page, my coward heart, and her name echoing between my ears like a secret prayer:
Lexie.
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✨ END OF CHAPTER ONE