There is a plain sheet of a paper. I listen to a pleasant melody, ideas r sad...
And in fact I have already spoiled a white sheet of my life with different unknown paints. In the head there are some plans for the future - funny.
But may be I perceive everything too seriously? How many new meetings, datings, partings, experiences, sad ideas might I have. I have all my life before me, it has not passed even a quarter of it yet.
Now I regret only about one thing, about that I has not made. I had once a love, I was 13, and it was real love. His name was Nick. It was in our summer cottage. Ugly duckling turned, into a small and clumsy a swan. The girl developed into the young woman. My first kiss might be the most romantic one in my love, but it wasn't...
Till now I can not understand why it was not? Whether because of children's fear, whether I did not want to leave my girlfriend whether because I had no my own experience... My first kiss was in two years and in a drunk condition. The world has not turned over, and in 13 it would! It's a pity, that I have understood it just now.
The understanding comes with experience never mind if this experience positive or negative.
And if something can't turn the world over in the childhood it can do it never...
