A Korean-American Princess

I don't really understand it and I really don't know if there is anything to understand.

Am I obsessed?

First of all, I have to confess that I am not a very good Christian. I go to church to meet my Korean friends there or to see if there are any good-looking Korean girls there. I know this is very superficial but this is what I do.

By the way, I am about 13 years old and a Korean-American as you so observantly guessed. At school, I just can't find many pretty Korean-American girls or Korean-American Princesses (KAPS).

I am on the search. I will find my meaning.

For some reason, I associate these pretty girls with the moon. Pale faces with dark hair... alone, ghostly?

I am at a Friends of Christ meeting. My sister is also present. I remember... was that a face I had seen before? Everyone introduces themselves but I freeze a little and then say "ummmm." It's almost as though I had forgotten my name, memory erased. They think this is cute. It's a Korean American Princess. Her name is Grace (Name Changed). Her dark, dark hair and her bright face... it reminds me of the moon once again. Her eyes dipped in ink, drops.

I stare at her and cannot stop. I'm a bit nervous. "Who is she?" I wonder.

At night, I can't stop thinking about her. I remember a Korean made-for-tv movie in which a Korean woman with her hair pulled back in a chignon, a Korean woman with a mole on her face... this woman looked so evil and beautiful at the same time. I remember being mystified by such an aristocratic woman.

This new KAP that I've discovered... I know nothing about her. Why am I so obsessed? Do I want to partake of her beauty somehow? Or is this my first hint of puberty?

Everything about her is so perfect. I would change nothing. Her smile, a 1/8 moon. Her eyes, dark and slightly evil. Nothing to change. Just obsess over her. BUT this empty vessel (Who is she and do I really care? She could be just a overspoiled daughter of a Korean beauty supply store owner.) BUT that I feel like a wave that is rolling over the golden beach.

I ask my friends about her. They don't know a thing. Slowly she begins to fade from my memory, taking with her all my restless nights.

A few months later, my parents have decided to go to another church. There she is, sitting near the front with her friends.