'Starstruck' by Ravyn LaRue

Sitting at the edge of a hallway
The lights gone out for no reason at all
Eating fruit snacks in honor of Ms.Johnson
I'm holding my essay
Twenty-Five pages of blood, sweat, psychology and fangirling
And as I think of the latter
Two figures walk by
One looking far too familiar
It takes me a moment to recognize
And even then I think
No, it's just dreaming and sleep deprivation
Don't be silly, self.

Then I repeat it-
Don't be silly, self
There's a chance it really is him
And if you let that pass you know you'll have no other
Since after all you're moving
And fate might be smiling down
Get up-
Grab your notebook and something other than a highlighter
If it is him you'll want his autograph
I jolt to my feet, all too sprawled into a sedentary state
No sleep but a nap for 3 days
You're in no state for socializing
But this is the only chance
You stand a tad afar
Feeling like an archetypical shy school girl

But you remember you're bold
Though your voice may shake when you get his attention
And your lips curl into your gums from the chapped frigid atmosphere
You wait until he turns around
And you ask if he is who he is
You know it's a stupid way of phrasing it, but it's there at the tip of your tongue
He smiles and says yes

You know you cannot say enough
You ask for an autograph and photo
And answer any questions he and his friend pose
You say, "Yes I go here" though you know that will soon be a lie
You wish you could talk to him about if
But he's a stranger after all
A very kind one, though, who keeps you from recoiling into your meek former freshmen year self
You wish you could ask him if he liked it
But you figure if he's here there must be some slight draw still
And he's charming and sweet
You tell him you're thankful that he isn't a jerk
Since that's always a worry when meeting one's idols

He signs your scrappy green notebook's innards
You always imagined someone signing your diary
But you left that at home
That's fine though
You ask if he signs many autographs
Since he seems to be meticulous with his cursive
He chuckles and says
"Well, I'm getting used to it"
He writes in
"Columbia"
"To personalize it-" he says
"Something in common..." he mumbles
It might not be your home
But it is a shared reality
And there is some pride in that

He draws a sunglasses smiley
Just like Terese likes
Just like the copious amounts of emoticons you use
That's another thing in common

With the photo, he laughs in a tenor way
You think, that's so sweet- you can't get little things like that through a blue-tinted laptop screen
We say cheese
And you hope you aren't grossing him out
Since you're frumpy and chapped
And he's all-put-together
You're glad, though, that you met him
Despite all of anything
Since you had that gut feeling
That could've easily been stifled

You let him leave and thank him-
Knowing to be courteous
Knowing not to keep him, hovering like that one notorious creepy fan
You say goodbye and thank you
Then rush to the surrounding bystanders and brag
Brag that you've met someone phenomenal
Silently brag that you didn't keel over and say something stupid

Now afterwards I sit writing a poem
Thinking of how I wish I would've told him how phenomenal he is
I figured it went without saying
Since I mentioned I was a big fan
And my all-too-energized hand movements probably proved how much this meant to me
Though my caffeine stained voice was quivering
And his was as voice actor-ish as always
I hope it got through to him
I could always send him a tweet
And I'll keep an eye out for Cons
But this makes me happier than anything else Chicago has offered me
For the first time in a month I truly need to journal
This is more important than my birthday
And since my mum and brother have been delayed
I'll take myself out to dinner
And I'll journal about this
My goodness-
I still cannot believe it!