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     everyday, i see her.

   i see her at the shore, playing her ukulele sweetly, singing her favorite songs.

     there is always a small crowd around her, mostly made up of children, enjoying her performance just like i do.

     i watch her everyday, from afar, too afraid to speak to her, too shy to approach her.
 
     i'm always a lot of feet away from her, but i can't stop admiring her. i can't help but to stop walking and put all of my attention to her.

     to her singing, her strumming, her smiling. i can't help but get attracted.

     my day isn't complete without seeing her.
    
     i'm a hundred percent sure that she doesn't even know me, and that maybe she doesn't even know i exist.

     it's because i'm too far to be seen.

     her beautiful blonde hair and her steely gray eyes and her full red lips catches my eyes. she's one of a kind.

     today is the day.

     today is the day that i decide to approach her, to tell her how much i adore her.

      although it might be a little weird to tell her that i watch her from afar, i'll still do, just for the sake of telling.

     people drop coins to the open case of her ukulele. 

     i'm a bit ashamed that i've never even dropped a dime in that case of hers. it's because i've never went a teeny tiny bit closer to her.

     once she finishes her last song, the small crowd dropped a lot of coins into the case, and she smiles at them. "thank you." she says sweetly.

     the crowd starts to diminish, and by matter of seconds, she is left all alone in the middle of the shore.

     i start walking to her. i walk briskly.

   she starts packing up. she is quick, and i stop on my tracks. i start to feel nervous, anxious.

     "not now, pj. man up." i say in my head, hoping to stop my mind from making me fear the outcomes. gosh, i hate to over think. it's a habit of mine that i've never really liked.

     anxiety starts to take over me, like it usually does whenever i speak to a stranger. not now, i need to know her name.

     she's almost leaving.

     she starts to walk away. i started to run after her.

ukulele :: kickthepjWhere stories live. Discover now