I saw you there. Dark, chocolate-brown eyes. I have copper-brown eyes, but not like yours. Your warm, inviting eyes. Another dark-haired, tall boy, but different. Mysterious, though he’s well-known. We’re alike in that way.  A voice sweet as cinnamon, a laugh more charming than the next. His smile, his grin, it’s golden. His eyes squint, he chuckles lightly, but genuinely.

He said, “Hello.”

Oh my god, he's beautiful.

“Hey.”

I fell for him, and hard. Harder than one would imagine. We both live around here, know the same people, and like the same things. He’s perfect, like a brisk fall morning. I could never tell him how I feel, though. He just lives in my head, he’s an old memory. Though, I only just met him. I only just now laid eyes on you. Love at first sight, no, but a real connection, yes, like a lightning strike hitting the ground too close for comfort and safety. Yet, I feel excited. A fire ignites within me. I’m scared. Just seeing him, my stomach feels like a roller coaster. It screams so loudly that I can’t make a single sound. I see him and suddenly, my chest tightens, and all air escapes from within. My lungs are a balloon a few days after the birthday party, losing air quickly after being stepped on, along with the rest of the party crap. He’s beautiful.

He’s breathtaking. I’m breathless. He is a night to remember. He is a shooting star. He looks at me, and my heart jumps out of my chest and frolics around.

But, he really only is a figure of my imagination. Because the teacher with a fierce glace looks over at me, looking at the boy. I’m blushing red. The off-putting, snotty teacher clears her throat with an oddly disgusting cough. She looks up to the class with her overcast-brown, demon eyes and tells us, 

“Only 179 more days with all of you.” 

But, I don’t get mad at her, because, I don’t know her story.

“Now, get out.”, the teacher scowls. 

But, I just brush it off. And, so, the loud bell rings and my eardrums buzz as the boy stands up. Reality Check. He is sitting through a 40-minute lecture. It’s his first day of school. He has a life, one that is not mine. My excitement slowly droops within. I am filled with disappointment, upset because realization hits—  I fell for him, and hard. I fell for him as if I willingly threw myself off the Empire State Building. I realize that. My heart perks up, holds its head high, and walks away.