If you could read my mind..

Last night, I sat down and finally admitted to someone how I feel about you.

“I think Joaquin and I are in mutual like.”

It was only Kaitlyn. She’ll never do or say anything about it. Really, she doesn’t care. If she had said the same thing about someone else, I know that I wouldn’t have cared.

I’ve always liked you, I guess. Even last year, when you’d just moved here, but I wouldn’t talk to you because I’m average-looking with a funny profile and skinny but really not in shape, and you’re tall (well, at least compared to me) with gorgeous eyelashes and a face like a god, and you’re foreign in a beautiful way.
Eventually, you met Samanda at the gym. And it was unearthed that you were a gymnast, hence Samanda’s gym. You two became good friends, because Samanda is good at that, being your friend and not giving you a say in the matter.You were too clean-cut for her, though, which is why when she introduced us and basically forced us into friendship (it sucks when you’re both shy), we hit it off better. I was the first one to realize that you weren’t only good manners; when you want to be, you’re a sarcastic little bugger. Soon Samanda was feeling the abuse, too. It took months before someone caught you at your little digs. We all understood that it was just fun.

We slipped into a pattern. Playful teasing. I introduced you to Jessa. You hit it off. It wasn’t until everyone had been talking about how you and Jessa should just get it over with and get hitched now that I realized that I liked you. By that point, Jessa had first dibs. I kept my mouth shut.

One day, Meagan ran up to me, saying that she thought you had just asked her out. I told her I’d find out – once I’m friends with someone, I’m not shy anymore. I sat in the seat in front of you, turned around, and just asked you. No small talk or anything to lead into it.

You stuttered, but didn’t turn red. I thought it was cute, but mostly I was just jealous, because I was most definitely red. You explained that you had a girlfriend back at your old school, and that you were trying the long-distance thing. I could finally breathe out. The thing is, long-distance relationships don’t work when you’re living on an islnad and need to fly to get anywhere important. No relationship will work with no contact. It was just a matter of time.

You held out for an entire school year, though. We became very close friends, but I had issues with the fact that you wouldn’t leave your house unless Samanda or I (or Samanda and I) invited you out. You didn’t initiate plans, not with anyone. But no matter who you would ask, they would say that they’d love to be better friends with you. That’s just how you are. Lovable.

You and Jessa also became better friends. In order to hide how I felt, I became a huge fan of you and she. I was second only to Nicole of my outward support for the two of you. But only when speaking to her. I didn’t want to be that girl, you know? The one in the movies that comes along and steals the boy. I’m used to going without. Hell, I never had a boyfriend. I wa so preoccupied with school that I just didn’t notice when relationships started to happen. My friends are having sex and I’ve never been kissed. That’s why you would be perfect for me. You’re so.. good. But Jessa is good too. And I had to stay out of the way of you two.

Over the summer, I invited a large group of people to my cabin. Between work, family trips and necessary evils such as schoolwork assigned over the summer, only three others could come. You were the only boy, but you put up with us reading aloud articles about vajazzling, and didn’t question it when you walked into our room and Jen and I were trying to teach ourselves how to bootyshake. My memories of that summer are mostly of the beach, of Camille yelling at me until I went bodysurfing with her, of you and her having handstand competitions (I honestly thought Camille would win, but you did), of all us us lying down and relaxing, of driving and singing bad nineties music at the top of our lungs. But mostly I remember that you said you and Rachelle had broken up. We all laughed at the thought that you guys would have stuck it out even with the immense distance between you. I rejoiced.

It didn’t last long. We were friendlier than ever, and the pair of us went to see Jessa in Hairspray with Camille. There were only three tickets left – we ended up each sitting alone. We tried, and failed, to communicate from our seats. At intermission, we talked about how good Jessa was. We all signed the card I bought, that was ridiculously large, and tried to tape the candy bouquet to it so that it wouldn’t fall of. It didn’t work. When the musical ended, all you could talk about was how good of a dancer she was. When she came up the stairs, I ran over to hug her. Nicole swears to this day that you looked at her like she was an oasis in the desert. ‘Pure.. adoration. It was like love.’ I’m just glad I didn’t see it.

By the time late October rolled around, Derrick was going to prom with Claire, and Daria was going with James. My options were literally down to you and Chris, who had been talking about asking Marisa. So I had to get you to go with me, or I would be awkwardly asking an acquaintance to please please please not think I like you but go to prom with me anyways. On my birthday, you, Kaitlyn and Samanda went to Cora’s with me. I paid, because you were my victims (but not really) for my lifeguarding exam, and because I owed Kaitlyn money. Samanda suggested we go to grad together. I playfully called ‘dibs!’ It was settled. Later I realized that in the moment, I really hadn’t waited to see what you thought of it. But I didn’t want to have that chat. I spoke of buying a poofy dress. You asked why they were so popular, they weren’t that great. I thought about it. I didn’t know. I’m not even a dressy person. Maybe I didn’t need a poofy dress.

Nothing else happened until December. You invited me over a couple of times. We watched Love Actually with your sister. It was adorable, and I still can’t get over the kid and the ‘total agony of love.’ So cute. You didn’t even sit on the same couch.

This was when the hugging started. Every time I come or go, there is a hug. You always smell amazing. I don’t want to let go.

Christmas holidays came. I bought you a blanket. Fleecy on one side, fluffy/wooly on the other. You freaked out and loved it. You gave me a bracelet. I wore it every day, until people started noticing and asking where I got it. I felt like they saw right through me when I casually mentioned that it was from you. I still wore it every day, but with a bunch of others so that it wouldn’t stand out. More hanging out. More hugs.
I went away for Christmas. Bought a flowy, not-dressy grad dress. It was more like a fancy dinner dress, but I didn’t care. It was classy, and made me think of black and white movies, which made me think of you. You were the only one to e-mail me while I was gone, and the first to hear about my near-frostbite in the Rockies, and how badly I wanted to ski the Devil’s Crotch but wouldn’t do it – I didn’t want to break my leg on a ski trip, no sirree.

One night, my Skype app on my phone flipped out. It was Meagan, pretty much e-screaming at me for asking you to grad. I calmed her down enough for her to tell me that Jessa was going to ask you as a real date, and found out about us literally while she was on her way to ask you.

I felt horrible. I sent Jessa a facebook message, told Meagan to discreetly let you off the hook, and waited, feeling miserable. I wish I could have saved the conversation. She sent me two texts from you. The first caused us both to stop breathing. I can’t remember exactly what it said, but it basically read ‘I wanted to ask her, I would’ve done it regardless of what happened.’ Meagan was confused, I was exstatic. I looked in the mirror and saw a stunning girl, not an okay-looking redhead with freckles and a strange profile. The second text read something like “I would feel bad not going with her.” Meagan said ‘Oh, that’s probs what it is!’ I despaired.

Either way, he wasn’t going with Jessa. We were going now, regardless.
I felt horrible for Jessa. I hadn’t told her that I liked him, and now she was dealing with this. We still haven’t had a chance to talk about it, just the two of us. I’m going to tell her then, and beg for forgiveness.
When I came home, you hugged me over the cafeteria table. It was awkward, but it was awesome. You still smelled amazing, and I could smell it on me for a long time after you let me go. This was about the time that I noticed that you would always choose the seat next to me at lunch, or would even sometimes move to the seat next to me if I chose one far from you. Since then, we’ve spoken about grad. Neither of us were uncomfortable with it. When you got your first university acceptance, I was proud. I freaked out and hugged you in the middle of the hall. You said it was no big deal. I said you were stupid, of course it was. You said that nobody knew yet. I felt special.

That night, I picked you up and drove you to Tim Hortons. We sat and talked about universities and scholarships and our futures. I admitted that I was scared of not getting out of here. You said there was no way they wouldn’t let me into any school I could ever want too apply to. Hell, you said that they would offer to pay for everything. There were little things, too. “When you walk into a room, people look at you,” you said. “I’m really glad I met you,” was sort of the common theme for the night.
That was last week. I ran a red light on the way home, completely distracted. You must have thought I was crazy. When you got out of the car, the hug lasted longer than ever. I was in heaven.
There’s been radio silence since then, though. I was at your hous for lunch, but you seemed really quiet. I don’t know if it was because I was in my exam garb (PJs), or if I finally scared you off with my driving (I swear to God I’m amazing when you aren’t there distracting me), or if I just text you too much and you need some space. I don’t know if I can give you space, outside of English, the class we share with Jessa, where I try to say as little as possible to you and let the two of you interact.

That night, you mentioned how shy you are at least four times. It might have been a hint. But you’re the one who’s had a girlfriend before. You need to initiate this, I have no clue what I’m doing, and even if I did, I can’t. You have to pick me, I can’t up and steal you from Jessa. I don’t want to be that girl.
I don’t know if I want you to someday read this or not. Maybe I don’t, maybe I do. Either way, I no longer have control over it. Now you know what’s going on in my head. But I have a question. If you *did* know, would you have acted on it? Or did I misread everything? There’s always the chance that I did. No relationship experience, remember?

They say that after four months, it isn’t a crush; it’s love. I suppose, then, that I love you.
It sounds stupid, though. I always hated couples that did that. “ILY SOOOO MUCHHH!! <3<3<3″ It makes me want to scream “You’re too young to know what love even is, let alone feel it for this guy you barely started going out with!”

Maybe seventeen is old enough, though. Because now that I think about it, it’s not lust. This isn’t a physical thing, even though you are completely beautiful and I certainly wouldn’t mind it being physical with us. This is a spiritual thing. We’re compatible. We can sit for three hours in Tim Hortons and talk without it getting weird.
It could always be infatuation. But I don’t think it is. It’s not a freak-out-when-you-talk-to-me thing. When you hug me, I get butterflies. When you play with my fingers until I have to look at you, no matter how important the conversation I was having, my skin tingles. When our eyes meet in class and we grin, I feel content.

Is it love? I don’t know, but I truly hope that you give me the chance to find out.
With love?
Smith

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