You walk into the room.
You don't look at me.
But from across the room, I'm watching you.
I can't help it. You're so perfect.
The first time I laid eyes I you, I could see how cute you were. You were a
junior, I was a freshman. You were beautiful. By the end of the day, I had a
serious crush going on.
It turned out to be deeper than a surface crush, though-everyone I asked told
me you were darling and sweet, and when I spoke to you myself, I could see for
myself that it was true. You were nice. So nice.
That was all it took for me to fall in love.
Not the storybook kind of love, where the princess falls in love with the
prince after singing with him for about ten seconds, but a real kind of love.
If only you'd known I existed.
Well, perhaps I should rephrase myself. You did know I existed. But I was just
a girl. Just a girl with a name and a face like all those others you knew.
I don't know why I found it so hard to talk to you.
Perhaps because you were so cute?
To be honest, I still don't know.
But now, there you are, over a year later. Across the room. Alone. This is my
moment. Carpe diem, as they say.
But I'm shaking. My heart is pounding against my ribcage so fiercely I begin to
fear it will burst out of my chest. My hands are trembling.
I can't move, I can't breathe.
And you just stand there, not knowing there is a girl across the hall who loves
you.
I stare at you with my eyes on legs that refuse to move, and I catch my breath.
You are beautiful. So beautiful.
My friend comes by and gives me a knowing smile before practically shoving me
in your direction. I move towards you, and you look up.
Your smile seems to light up the whole room. You look genuinely happy to see
me, and I find a little of my nervousness fading away.
I mention something lame about it's been forever since we've spoken and you
humor me with a smile and a laugh before asking me how I am. I say fine and ask
you how you are. You tell me you've been well.
After that, the conversation blooms. Everything fits perfectly where it should,
and the conversation is not given a chance to be awkward.
I love you.
At the end of the day, though, we must turn around and go our separate ways.
I love you.
I can only hope that one day you'll look at me the way I look at you.
I love you.
