You don't know it but I’m so glad that you sit behind me in class. It was such a distraction when I could see you, but now I can’t even catch a glimpse of you in the corner of my eyes. When you sat in the front row, I kept finding my eyes resting on you. That lightly tousled red hair was such a distraction. It looked so silky soft that I just kept thinking of running my hands through it. The worse days were the ones where you hadn’t worked at putting it up like you do, when it’s messy it makes you even cuter. Sometimes I’d find myself looking at those freckles. They’re not spotting your face but I see them on your neck, your arms. I wonder how far they go sometimes.
It’s so embarrassing, how much I like you. It’s not like you’re some movie star who stepped off the screen. Really, you’re not even drop dead gorgeous. Other girls think you’re cute, but I think you’re unbelievably sexy. You’ve got one of those voices that’s just deep enough that it doesn’t distract from your lanky frame, it only adds distinction. I could listen to you talk for hours on end, I really could. I wish you’d let me.
And you, you’re so tall. You’re a full head taller than me, and that’s hard to find. I can just imagine you hugging me, holding me, maybe even kissing. Even though our glasses might clink against each other’s, I’m sure it’ll just make us laugh. They’ll be no awkward stretching, no inability for feel wrapped up in you. It makes me hazy every time I talk to you.
But all that above, those are just the physical aspects of you. You’re so much more. The first day I saw you I thought you were so adorable. Then, when I noticed the book you were reading, I found you even more so. When I asked if you wanted to do the assignment together, it wasn’t because I thought it would be hard, it was because I wanted to get a feel for you. To start to know who you are. But you, you did the assignment before I could text you. And that chance was gone. I thought you must have been dense to think I wanted to do the assignment, it only would take me five minutes on my own. But I guess that it means you’re responsible, since I don’t want to think of it as rejection.
When we met up that Wednesday to talk about that series I’d seen you reading, I was ecstatic. You’ve seen how I dress. Did you not notice that it was my intention to work at being cute? I tried, at least I think I did. But talking to you. Oh! You really impressed me. It’s not like you’re a genius, but you certainly are intelligent. I’d envied the girls who could ignore brains for looks until that moment. But then I got to talk to you and knew that you are one of the great combinations of both.
You have no idea how ecstatic that makes me. That I still find you attractive after talking with you. So many guys have lost all their luster once opening their mouths, but not you. We talked for half an hour about the books, then I prompted you for a quarter more to talk about yourself. I can’t believe how much that meant to me. I can’t believe that I’m turning into one of those other girls who get flustered by a guy.
I want to talk to you more. I’m walking to class now to walk back with you. I’m giving you every chance to get to know me, to ask me for coffee, or lunch, or anything. My friends think you’re shy. They tell me to make the first move sometime. But how can I?
My thoughts are always running away with themselves when I think of you. They’re always going to how nice it would be to sit and talk with you. My hands get lonely and want to hold yours but I know we’re not there yet, that it would be creepy. I find myself hoping that it gets cold so I can borrow your jacket and feel like you’re hugging me. I swear I’m not insane, I swear I’m not a stalker. I just can’t help it. I like you too much.
I found myself spending an hour drawing your face, only to hide it so no one knows. I find myself wondering what it would feel like with your arm around my shoulder. What it would feel like to look into your eyes, to hold you, hug you, touch your lips to mine. I’m so embarrassed. I’m so ashamed. You don’t even know.
But I keep hoping that someday you will.