Except that I do. And I love him. I think. For being so beautiful on the inside and on the outside. And I miss him; it’s tragic, really. I don’t know what to do now because it used to be so simple when I still saw him at school everyday and could just stare at him relentlessly, shamelessly. These days, I don’t see him anymore and probably never will again.

Except that I did see him a few weekends ago when he and his band had a gig here in town at the Cherry Blossom Fest. They had trumpets, drums, e-guitars, saxophones and a piano which sounded all amazing but most importantly he sang. Oh God, I just love it when he sings. Only a little while ago, back in January, he had me absolutely swooning when he performed Are you gonna be my girl by Jet. This past Saturday they did Big river by Johnny Cash (the Highwaymen version), Beer by Reel Big Fish and Play that funky music by Wild Cherry, all of which sounded so much better when he sang them than the originals do. I listened to them on YouTube in an ridiculous attempt to recall all his rugged handsomeness but sheesh, the originals sound so boring and nonmusical.

He is also so smart. It’s scary, almost, because he’s not nerdy and he’s not know-it-all about it. He just knows everything about anything and when the time is right, he puts in his two cents. In a good way. He’s also not just book-smart but street-smart.

And he looks so gorgeous when he plays soccer. And hangs out with his best friends, drinking beer, laughing, making dirty but witty jokes.

Everytime I see him, all that he is, is branded into my mind, heart and soul. And then I’ll see him again at tomorrow’s day of chaos and although I couldn’t care less about any of the other students, I just know that it’ll take my mind a couple of days to let him go again.

It’s thundering outside but, most fascinatingly, it’s not raining but lightning with just seconds in between. It’s been going on for over an hour and I have never witnessed anything like that around here. I know these summer storms from Kentucky but we just don’t have ‘em here. Until now, apparently.

I could stand by the open window and look at the storm forever. It doesn’t get old, never ever will. I went downstairs to mention something about it to my parents and my dad started rambling about some guy on TV who is about to donate 100,000 euros for whichever good cause. It’s astounding, my dad said.

No, it’s not.

Dark, monstrous clouds, piling up, everywhere, lightning striking down, coming closer, in the distance, then closer, light and bright and then low-key, rain starting to fall from the sky, slowly, gently at first, then touching ground hard, the wind picks up, it rushes through the trees and the bushes, through the grass, through my hair, the thundering, the lightning, the unexpected, the unpredicted, so powerful and genius and beautiful - that is astounding. It’s fascinating, mesmerizing, and so perfect in sound, appearance and smell.

I could watch this for hours and hours while listening to country music, closing my eyes, taking it all in and wishing that I was in Kentucky right now, out in the country, where you can see lightning on the horizon, where there’s no walls and houses any direction you turn.

That’s where I belong. That’s where I can be happy. That’s where I want to sit out on the deck all night, in the summer rain, and feel the storm approaching, raging and blowing past. I know that’s what I need.

It’s who I am.

ETA: That’s what I’m talking about, man.

I currently have a thing for accents from Down Under which is a surprise because I always thought they basically spoke like the British until I heard Keith Urban actually talk as opposed to singing with a southern drawl. Also, there is a character on Gilmore Girls named Finn who talks with that same accent and he has me on the edge of my seat, waiting for Australian accent snippets.

So, news flash: I do now love people from Australia and New Zealand.

I just love the English language with such a passion and I love it even more to discover beautiful accents. Of course I learned all my English vocabulary and grammar from Friends which I would consider pretty clear, standard American book English. My pronounciation, however, is not only influenced but essentially shaped and formed by the lovely people of Kentucky and their southern drawl. Meaning, that everything went down hell the minute a flight attendant of Lexington’s Blue Grass Airport asked me, AN’ WUHD KEHN UH GITU, HUN?

As much as I love the lazy, southern pronounciation, accents from Down Under have my heart for now. Also, this whole thing makes me feel extremely wanderlust-y and long to see the world. I can’t stop checking out airport websites worlwide.