I scan the hallway for you. My heart beats with every rapid step I take. She's talking to me, but I can't listen. I'm not a very good listener in the first place due to my short attention span, but it's especially bad since you've been on my mind. I let out a series of “Mm-hms” and “Oh reallys” so that I don't give myself away. I sigh angrily when I don't see you in the hallway. She asks me if I'm okay. I lie.

Yes, I had an epiphany about two weeks ago. I literally woke up in the middle of the night, and the thought occurred to me- liking you (in that way) wouldn't be the worst thing ever. After that, my little thought train took off at a hundred miles per hour. We are friends. We have been friends since ages and ages ago, back when dinosaurs walked the earth. Okay not really, but you know how I like to exaggerate. I thought that's where we stood. Friends. I'm sorry I never noticed the look in your eye when you talked to me. I'm sorry I have the attention span of a squirrel and never heard what you were always trying to tell me. I'm sorry.

But my mission today is to not go off saying “I'm sorry” to you all day. I rush through the crowded school hallway still hoping I'd see your head bob up and down from amongst the crowd. I shove people out of my way rudely. I think that you're more important though. If I have to upset a few people to get to you, well then it's worth it. I recall you staring at me from across the classroom a long time ago. Actually, you did that a lot. I always thought you were trying to read the poster behind my head. I'm not very smart. If you knew I thought that, I know exactly what you would say: “You are smart.” Simple. You've said that before. It's not a powerful statement, but if I look at you when you say it, something changes. You mean it with all your heart, and it shows on your face. You know what I've wanted say back to you but I never did? “You're smarter.” And I mean it with all of my heart. You are smarter.

I stomp my foot when the final bell rings because I still haven't found you. It hurts because I stomped my foot too hard. You would laugh if you saw me. You never laugh at me in a mean way though. I've noticed that at least. You're nice to me. I noticed that, too. Maybe I'm not so oblivious. You were never trying to read that poster behind my head. I don't know where you are today. You haven't called me back... I suppose it's because of what happened. I'm sorry. Again. You would tell me to stop apologizing. I'm sorry for apologizing so much. This is cliché, but so many things were left unsaid that night two weeks ago. On my part of course. You talked. And talked. And talked. I listened for the first time. I really listened. No “Mm-hms” or “O reallys” that night. You finished what you needed to say and waited. Poor you! You waited and waited. I just sat. Astonished. Dizzy. If I listened more often I think I wouldn't be alive right now. I couldn't handle it. A wave of strange feelings came over me that night. You got mad. Maybe even embarrassed. Hurt. Definitely hurt. I hurt, too. I hurt because you were hurt. You left. I was left empty.

I skip class. Very unlike me, I know. I can almost hear you gasping. But you're not here today. So I skip class. I go to the girls' bathroom. I'm happy no one's in here. I sit on the windowsill and pass the time away by simply sitting. Thinking of you. I remember when we were outside on that chilly fall afternoon. Do you? I was dumb and didn't bring my jacket. You tried to convince me earlier that I needed one, but I kept denying it. I was freezing that day. But you gave me your jacket even though it was my own fault I didn't have one. I think I still have your jacket actually... Sorry. Again.

It has been two weeks of hell for me since that night. I didn't know how to go about this whole thing. Telling you that I love you, too. I guess I just did. I love you. I know you're not here today. You know that I can only express myself through writing so I wrote this in the girls' bathroom on the windowsill. I'll be waiting from afar when you open your locker and read this. I bet you'll be thinking “stalker.” But I like to think of myself more as a ninja. I love you.