Hey, welcome back.
Hah — you're still here?
Well, buckle in, 'cause this story ain't slowing down any time soon.
So, yeah — about this girl.
Lexie.
She's… well, she seems too perfect.
Too put-together for this messy boy with a half-lost mind and a habit of turning thoughts into scribbles no one's supposed to read.
She caught my eye the way sunlight leaks through old curtains in a dusty room — quiet but unstoppable.
I'd be lying if I said she wasn't stuck in my head already — lodged in there like a stubborn splinter I secretly don't want to pull out.
Of course, I had to tell someone.
Couldn't keep it all bubbling up in my skull, y'know?
So, I hit up my best friend — dude's basically my free therapist at this point.
I didn't spill everything though — nah, not the part where I stand at corners in my hoodie watching her pass by, or how I keep replaying our tiny accidental moments like they're the climax of some blockbuster romance.
That stays between me and these pages.
I just told him the basics:
"Hey bro, there's this girl. Cute as hell. Mysterious. Seems new around here. Ever heard of her?"
He didn't.
Go figure.
Which means she's either a ghost or brand new to this neighborhood.
Either way, I like that.
A little mystery tastes good to a bored soul, trust me.
So I keep doing what I do best:
tiny doses of courage here and there.
I map her routes in my head — where she goes after school, what time she likes to sit under that big mango tree by the dusty roadside, how she listens to her music, lost in her own movie.
The other day, luck threw me a bone — a friend called out to her, clear as day:
"Lexie!"
And bam — my heart took a screenshot.
Lexie.
I repeated it all the way home.
It felt soft on my tongue, tasted like a secret.
Like lilies, like you said, journal.
A name worth a thousand stupid dreams.
So, yeah.
Now I sit here, adding her name to these pages like it's a prayer.
I swear I'm not a creep (okay, maybe 15% creep, but harmless).
I just want to know who she is — really know her, not just the pretty face everyone probably stares at when she walks by.
I wanna know what she's scared of.
What makes her heart race.
What breaks her and what fixes her back up.
And maybe, maybe — what she'd think of a boy like me.
---
And either way, I think my heart is in trouble.
'Cause this girl? She's got my attention now —
like literally, my whole world's spinning around her, like the earth orbiting the sun.
I think about her.
I overthink about her.
I imagine the type she's into, the food she likes, her favorite color — dumb things that keep me up at 2am when I should be dreaming about things I'll never say.
At least now I know we kind of vibe on the same type of music.
Even if it was just one song I caught her playing — maybe it was a fluke, maybe not.
Still, my mind won't let it go.
What's she like when no one's looking?
What does she cry about?
What's behind that overjoyed smile that looks a little too perfect to be real?
Is she broken like me?
I want to know.
I need to know.
So here I am — 2am, and I can't sleep.
I'm scribbling half-coherent confessions in this old journal instead.
Maybe she's the one I've been hoping for.
Maybe she's another chapter I'll wish I could erase later.
I don't know.
I don't care.
Right now, it feels real.
And that's enough.
Music's playing in the background — some random playlist trying to drown my thoughts.
Doesn't help.
She's still there.
I bet you — whoever you are reading this — you probably think I'm a creep.
Heh. Lol.
😭😂
So, yeah — that's just that.
For now.
Don't worry — I'll keep you posted on what happens next.
I got you. 😅
I don't know who you are — future me? Some stranger? You, Lexie?
If you ever find this, girl…
Damn. How embarrassing.
Anyway.
Goodnight.
Or whatever.
See you on the next page.
The End of Chapter Two 🪐