Of love. It's an interesting position to be in. Some days, I feel completely and utterly furious with the fool who's caught my eye. Then the next day, I feel completely and utterly enamored with that same fool. I start to wonder who the real fool is, myself or the boy. I suppose it's me and I only think him foolish because I like him so much.
The power of this arrangement goes from awful and agonizing to eager and exhilarating. Even during the times when I know he's going to say something stupid or act in a way that hurts, I count the hours until I see him again. My whole being feels bouncy and excited when I think of being in the same room with this boy. I don't even realize it sometimes. Random thoughts appear, at night or during a particularly uninteresting lecture. Or maybe it's only boring because I'm thinking of something else.
The outfits in my closet are planned in my dreams to see how I can possibly impress him and look my best. Conversations are played out in my head, scripting my words and trying to predict his. I hold his words and compliments in my head like a child gazes at a jewel bright butterfly. His smile and his laugh ring again and again in my head. It's worse than having a song stuck there because it's just a replay of the original, and the whole time I wish that I could just be close to him, actually see his smile and hear him laugh.
ARG! I'm so STUPID! It must be nearing spring time. "Bambi Syndrome." Twitterpated. You never think it's going to happen, and then...WOMP. Smacks you right in the chest and sticks itself there. Like a bad cold that won't go away (speaking of which...). Stupid, stupid, stupid.