Psst.

Hey, you.

The guy in the white shirt outside my classroom, standing there with the goofy grin.

No, don't point at the tall-ish dork hunched down beside you like you don't know. I mean you. I'm looking at you.

I know you. We see each other around campus a lot. Inside the library. Down by the parking space near that tree with the birds that always poop on your car. Remember that time you had to watch that movie for your Philosophy class, and you casually invited me to come, and during the movie you sat next to me and it was really cold and we kind of just pressed our shoulders together and my heart felt all calm and happy inside because of that? 

Yes, you, the one with the messy hair and the greyish jeans and the smile that just won't quit. Do you have any idea, the power that you have over me? How much you have managed to disarm me? How easily you have gotten past my defenses, past all the fences I pitched, past the sentries I stationed? 

No, I don't think you have a clue. 

I don't think you know how much you make me happy. I don't think you know how much joy it brings me whenever we're together and we're being silly. Or when the conversation fades and we just sit there, not saying anything, silent and perfect. It's not the kind of happiness that grips your heart and gets it racing at a million miles per hour. It's not all like that. It's a quiet happiness. A soft happiness. A constant happiness. I can't quite put my finger on it, but I know I've only ever felt it with you. 

Yes, you. Standing there like a handsome buffoon with a dorky backpack. Can we just ditch school? Can we just hop in your car and drive someplace we've never been before, even just for a day? On my signal, open the door for me and I'll jump out of this seat. We'll be down by the parking lot before they'll even notice we're gone. Ready? One, two, three, go!

Or you can just stand there, looking at me, and I will just sit here, pretending like I'm learning. And we can both pretend. You can be some random guy I see in the hallway, and I can be some random girl you spot in a classroom. Our hearts will race. Our pulses will quicken. Our minds will struggle to form a coherent sentence that our mouths will eventually mangle. We can act like we did when we hadn't known each others' names. We can pretend that we've only just met. We can pretend like we've just fallen in love.

Only we wouldn't be pretending.

Not me.