Celia Wingard, the almost seventeen year old, leaned her head back against her pillow and sighed.  HE was on her mind again.  “He” was Kyle Wendland, the soon to be eighteen year old.  Six foot one, brown eyes and dark hair.  He was the stereotypical tall, dark and handsome hero.  At least in Celia’s eyes.  Of course, he was handsome by the world’s standards too. But to Celia, he was more than that.  The Kyle she knew was absolutely beautiful, inside and out. 

She was not obsessed, nor did she think about him constantly, but only, several times a day.  About half of those times, she thought about kissing him.  Not exactly a make-out session or anything remotely similar.  Quite the opposite in fact, just a sweet simple kiss.  

She could see it when she closed her eyes; she could almost feel the warmth of his lips on hers.  Almost, but not quite.  Having never been kissed, that part of the daydream was a little hazy for Celia.  She could only imagine.  And imagine she did. 

The kiss itself was not elaborate or fancy or anything unordinary, but she did have one hand placed lightly against his cheek.  It was a quick kiss, a goodbye kiss.  Not as in “goodbye forever,” but a  “goodbye, I’ll see you soon, but I’ll miss you anyways” kiss that spoke of love, of comfort, of trust, and of protection.  Beautiful in its simplicity. 

This dream was yet to come true and she tried not to be reminded of it when she was near him; that could seriously warp her already altered reality.  She was about to break though; just being around him was enough to send her over the edge.  So she prayed to God for strength and patience to wait it out.  Because for Kyle, in her almost seventeen year old mind, she could wait forever… 

But what set Kyle apart form other crushes she had before?  The imagined kiss, perhaps.  Of course she had imagined kissing other crushes, but not to the same degree, not with the same intensity.  What did it mean? Did it just mean that he had mad her so attracted that she wanted him?  Or was it something deeper?  Or both?  Her own insight was leaning more towards both.  She even thought, was this love?  Or was she too young to know what love really was?  Almost seventeen wasn’t exactly the age of wisdom.  Far from it!  So how exactly do you know if you’re in love?

Celia didn’t have any of the answers she so desperately sought, so she opted for the next best thing.  She hoped she find out soon and her dream would become reality.  With that last thought, Celia drifted off to sleep to dream of her hero.  No matter what she’d be there waiting.  Whenever he needed her… After all, she’d wait forever…

 

 

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