“Hey baby, what’s your hurry? Relax and dont you worry. We’re gonna fall in love.”
I listen to Frank Sinatra coo in the background and realize I’m feeling like a cock-eyed optimist again. This is new, I think. This hasn’t happened in a while.
The music swells in unison with my nervous heart and it feels a bit like high school again. Or senior year of college. Or really, any time I’ve felt a surge of emotions for another person. Stuff I haven’t known in a while. The kind of feelings you jot down in a diary. Or I guess if you’re me, on Thought Catalog.
Welcome to my journal, world.
“The problem now of course is to simply hold your horses, to rush would be a crime. ‘Cause nice and easy does it every time.”
Frank continues to croon and everything inside me wants to listen. I…
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