Wonderwall.

Verb.

Someone you find yourself thinking about constantly, and you are completely infatuated with them.

Now, I'm sure everyone has a Wonderwall, am I right? Some of us may just be more comfortable showing it than others. For instance, if your Wonderwall is someone who's Instagram you've been stalking for the past couple of months, it may be best that you don't reveal that information. Or better yet, you might just need to find a new hobby. Now, what if your Wonderwall is someone you actually know? Someone you've spent years trying to figure out?

Addison Olivia Morris.

She's my Wonderwall. Born July 28th, 2000 to a mother she's never been close with, a father who was too devoted to himself to raise his daughter, and the youngest of two girls. No, I'm not some form of a stalker that's spent hours upon hours researching her. I know her. Have known her for four years and I'm still trying to figure her out.

The first time we met was in Dr. Henrickson's office. Her mom thought it best if she sought psychiatric help. She told me that her mind hated her, so she took it out on herself. I remember her showing me, the purple marks like snakes down her arms. I remember that her eyes looked sad; even when she smiled her biggest, toothiest smile her eyes stayed the same. That's when I truly understood that she wanted to die. That's when I knew that she was something special; something different.

Noted that I didn't say this earlier, but Dr. Henrickson is my pops and the psychiatric facility is his. After school, I'd take the bus to his work, offer my greetings to all the pretty ladies in my wake, and then I'd go into his office and watch YouTube. When Addison came along, however, my routine changed. I'd be itching by the last class, consistently staring at the clock until the hour hand gave up and the bell rang. I'd sprint to the bus and wait patiently in my seat until my stop, counting the streets as the passed by. I'd save my chocolate milk from lunch, that way I'd have an excuse to go up and talk to her. I feel like that's when our relationship really blossomed. That started something.

That started my impulse habit of saving my lunch money to buy two cardboard boxes of chocolate milk because I knew she'd be there waiting for me. That started our conversations about what we wanted to be when we grew up. She'd tell me how all she wanted to do was sing. She'd want her first concert to have pink spotlights and she'd wear an extra sparkly dress so she looked like a princess. She'd stand up on the chair and do her princess wave, blowing kisses to the imaginary crowd. I remember thinking at that moment, that she was the one I was in love with.

So if you find a Wonderwall, don't let go of it. Hold it tightly in your hands and make it knows that it's loved. Because one day, it could be gone and you might never get it back.