So last night, a boy talked to me. A regular boy and I had a regular conversation. Just a nice, Christian, good looking boy and I had a nice innocent conversation. Nothing truly personal was discussed; nothing extraordinary to make note of in a journal; no deep theological debate to ponder over for hours; not even any commitments for any further discussions…
Still, my mind is buzzing. Still my thoughts are racing. Still my imagination is running… wild
Still, I’ve lost my peace. Still, I’ve misplaced my contentment. Still, my heart is going… wild
This year I had committed to be more mature when it came to the opposite sex. Gone were the days of planning outfits based on a certain someone being present. In my dust I had left the silly doubts and insecurities about who “I” was. No longer would I be 28 going on 18. My imagination had been reigned in and corralled into productive, fruitful ventures that left me with a sense of empowerment and satisfaction.
And still… all it took to knock me off my high horse was a beautiful smile from a beautiful boy.