Lost For Words (by Cortney Joseph)

There stood the girl of my dreams, and somehow the words I’d rehearsed a thousand times in my dreams escaped me. I couldn’t form the correct thoughts, force myself to let them slip past my lips; though I knew each sentiment verbatim.

In my mind, it was all so simple. I held her near, I adored her, and expressed the way I’d always felt.

But here, face to face; her beauty left me lost for words.

How? How could I be lost for words when it came to the girl I thought of day in and day out.


I couldn’t explain; and even as she noticed me, spoke to me, I found myself tongue tied and babbling foolishly. I could only hope that my eyes would let her know what I found so hard to even mutter, but her expressions let me know that I was looking anything but normal.

“Was there something you wanted to tell me earlier, Khalil?”

I nodded, gulping hard as the butterflies in my stomach began to turn topsy-turvy. I prayed that I could just say it.

Fixed my lips, forced myself to think straight, smiled, and gazed into her eyes. Giving my full attention. “I-I…”

“Yes, Khalil?”

“I hope that you love it in your new town.” Internally I groaned. For the look on her face let me know I’d foolishly said the WRONG thing.

“I’m still kind of bummed about going, but thank you.” Ebonie put her head down, gently tucking one of her loose curls behind her ears. “It was great having a friend like you here. One of the few I’ve made in all my years of moving around as an army brat.”

“Glad to have been a friend.” Though, I wanted more. I was too dumb to say so. Too scared of rejection.

“I wish you had seen me as more, but maybe it’s best that we were only friends. Saying goodbye would be a lot harder now, wouldn’t it?”

I shook my head. “Just as hard. Ebonie, I…”


“I’m sorry.”

Though the first look she gave was one of confusion, she gave a gentle smile before giving me a tiny peck on the lips. “Take care.”


I nodded, watching as she walked away and headed towards her parents’ car. Dropping my head, I called myself every variant of ‘idiot’ that I could think of. “Ebonie, I love you.”

Maybe if we meet again, next time I won’t lose my cool. I’ll know what to say and how to say it without fearing the worst.

Published by mypenwritesnice

Creative Soul. Artist. Perfectionist. Virgo.

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