I always heard that being 18 was fun. All the girls, parties and sex you could imagine, but not for me. My school years were spent cooked up indoors with my nose in a book. I didn't care for sports or exercise, mainly because I was never good and always got complaints when I tried. I adored reading though, as well as the ladies. I say ladies when in reality there is only one for me: Sarah.
Sarah was slim and athletic, as well as clever. She was vibrant and bubbly and was always up for a laugh. Her skin was always tanned and her smile could light up a room and talking to her always made me happy, even in the darkest of times. All the boys wanted her. I first knew that I liked her in our History class two years ago and my feelings have only grown. I don't stand a chance though. She knows how I feel and doesn't like me in that way, which I can tell you, breaks my heart.
I chat to her as much as possible. One time I managed 12 days in a row. However, this would have to stop. School was over for the summer and I was about to jet off to the Sunshine State. I said my goodbyes to my family and friends and especially Sarah and left jolly old England for 4 weeks. Of course I would have Internet but I wanted to relax and not panic over whether or not we could end up together (this obviously didn't happen and we ended up chatting a lot and, as I guessed, this did end in panic). As we chatted, the sense of love grew and I felt that it was about to happen so I set off and bought a cheapish necklace that she would like without her knowledge.
4 weeks later and I was on the return flight, my gift packed safely away and awaiting its rightful owner. The suspense killed me. Does she actually like me? Will she like the gift? What will she say? These were all questions racing through my mind and none of them were answerable. It was all right though. We would soon land and be back in sweet old Blighty, were hopefully future Mrs. Connor Bluntt would be standing, waiting for me.