#045 Good Sport

Can I be honest with you, Amelia? I was never good at sports, but I went to watch you play.

No matter the weather, in freezing cold or brazing sun -my bronze curls bobbing in the wind- I would watch you run.

I would trail your white, thigh-high socks on the tennis court and offer you my gum; not because you had beat me but because you are my only one.

One day, I might rise above my station, make you lose or make you swoon. However, even if I can never catch up, I will still be chasing you.