A - Just another girl

Entry 1

Lying in bed and thinking, I think of so much stuff. Mainly sex
related.

Course mates, the journey on the bus, the guy who sat opposite me, the
girl who sat next to me, I want to be able to jump off the bus when I
am 60 the way I jump on and off it now when I am 22.

I think about you when I sit there. You - that is an ever-changing
concept. You who are you? Kate or Kath, Tina or Foz, I don't know maybe
Leslie - that's a story I would have liked to read. Instead I got the
synopsis. I read the review on the back cover and I liked it. No I
really liked it but I didn't have time to read you. I walked past you
so many times, always interested. Admiring from afar, then taking time
to check out the cover. I read your reviews so many times, the teasing
trailer of you. I enjoyed it, you intrigued me. One day I opened you up
and I read the inside of your front cover. Then I read your tributes,
your dedications. But I put you back carefully, having ensured I did
not leave a mark on you - not a crease. Again I would venture to your
shelf, carefully pick you up and read your cover but again I am passing
through. Intrigued ands fascinated but intimidated too. I will not
venture further. I need you to tell me when it is time. Finally one day
I pass and I have been fortified with courage, by being wounded with
pain. I am lost and looking for solace when I walk past your shelf. You
who have always attracted me, invite me over, I am enraptured by your
presence, you draw my attention and hold it, I am sucked into you. I
pick you up and open your first page like a child unwrapping the shiny
foil on my favorite chocolate bar. Already tasting the sweet flavour
knowing what is to come and wanting more. Exited but wary as the child
is only allowed one chocolate bar.

With the feelings of flurries in my stomach, warming into a fiery glow
I turn the opening pages I have read before and start on a new page.
Your opening paragraph turns me to jelly inside. My heart is pounding
in my ears, the soft throbbing in my chest is as loud as a pack of
horses galloping through a field, as they slowly approach getting
louder all the time until they pass, but they will not pass.

Your page is so familiar to me, and yet I have never ventured so far.
My mind races with the possibilities that lie ahead. I feel I know you.
I can understand and sympathise&;#8230;

A rude interruption, a question asked 'are you coming home with me
today? You speak to me, it is clear, no, not today, not now, you should
be savoured, lingered over for hours and hours, deliberated and
liberated as words fly from your page through the mists of my
mind.

I will come back for you, I vow unto myself, that next time I return I
shall be strong and take you from your teasing position on that shelf
that I must walk past. But as I walked away, I didn't know, I didn't
understand that I was never going to return to your shelf. Never would
I be heading past your doorway, the porthole into your magical world.
What I would give to see you again, to cherish your cover from
afar&;#8230;.
And oh to be bold, and devour your glorious contents.