Imperfect

I thought it was sort of cute,
the way you chased me all over the playground
How you pushed me on and off the swing
and jumped me in the baseball field

How for Halloween you dressed up
as a bride, veil and all
I dressed up as a superhero
ran away, cape and all

You were a damsel in distress
when you kept tripping on your dress

You kept trying to buying my attention
with ice cream cones and toy transportation

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So there she was, telling me everything I never knew I wanted to hear. Those words and actions I'd kill for now (though killing should only drive it away). At first I drove her away, feeling I wasn't ready (story of my life). She kissed me on the cheek, and I didn't realize the meaning. What did I care? First grade was a time for learning how to tell the difference between capital letters and their small counterparts. It was a time for negative numbers, not negative issues. Eventually I unconsciously gave in, I think. It was attention and I wanted it. I pursued for the sake of pursuing, even pulling out jokes about her dressing up for a wedding at Halloween. I said, "Batman doesn't need a wife!". I think she grew tired. I tried kissing her at reading time, but to no avail. Maybe it was for the best. I would have been branded as something I didn't want to be. Maybe I'm thinking too hard about it. I do that about everything. (I say 'maybe' a lot, maybe). So as the years went by, I moved on and forgot about it most of the time. Occasionally, I would see her chasing this kid named Eric or him chasing her and would think to myself, there she goes again. Why isn't that me? Because I didn't want myself to be? Most likely. Though, to be honest, I didn't have such deep thoughts when I was 8. It was more like "There she goes. Hey the swing is open". I could deal with that. Now, I don't know what to think.