The Right Write Rite

Enamored.

Infatuated. Lusting.

Define love for me, please?

I don't know. I wish I knew. Then I could....

I could say that I love someone, I could tell just the right person, just the right words right now.

He would know how I feel. I would ask him out to the movies, and the butterflies would go away and my heart would sink back down to where it belongs and my head would concentrate on the moment, rather than on him, with his blonde hair and his... nose.

I want to run my fingers through the blonde locks and to brush my fingers along his face, to touch my lips to the tip of his nose and stare into his eyes. I want to laugh when he makes a joke and not worry that he might think that I'm into him when really, I am. I want the courage to tell him how I feel, the courage to tell him... something. I wanted his fingers to run down my spine and for his voice to say "It'll be alright," when I did not know that it would be.

And I'm leaving soon. Leaving the island, leaving his home, my home, the place most familiar to us. He'll be here, and I will be elsewhere. Is it even worth it? The tension was too much, I wonder if he felt it. I wonder if he was as tense as I was, trying not to get to close, trying not to... touch his knee or... brush his hand. I wanted to see him smile, to see his eyes light up and for his lips to spread out in his own special smile. I wanted him to turn around, stop talking to Hunter, and for us to find something to talk about. Do we have something in common? Something other than Latin and a friend? I know I see him as a friend... it's part of the problem. But I don't know him that well, and I would love to get to know him, to know who he is when no one else is around. I want to talk to him all the time and to hear whatever profound statement he makes, to listen to his random outbursts of songs and the music he plays on his phone. That's all, really.

Should I stop dreaming? Stop hoping? Stop... wanting? Do I move on or do I ask him... in a round about way to go to the movies... would he go to the movies with me? Would he feel bad because I had to drive? Would he need me to pay? I would. I want to spend time with him, in his company, no matter what. When we were at the Latin Forum, and I was on my own doing something, I didn't want to find Amanda to talk to Amanda, I wanted to find Amanda because he would be around Amanda. She made it worse, I think - mentioning her thoughts on the subject - that he might like me. What if she was wrong? What if...? What if all of this fretting is for nothing? What if he doesn't like me and I only like him because I think he might like me? The curiosity is killing me inside!!! I want him to know and maybe I should have said something on formspring? If I did...would he have rejected me or would he be "Oh." As in a good 'oh' not the 'ew' 'oh.' Is he thinking about me right now? As I sit here in mini-agony, wondering all of this? Everything reminds me of him. And it doesn't help at all that we are talking about Amanda, and Amanda and him pretty much go hand in hand. They've been friends for longer than I've known either one of them and if I talk to one, I talk to the other. I want to say it, to say his name and to tell him that I like him. I want to be able to admit it, to admit it to people who can't guess. I want him to sit with me at lunch...or for me to sit with him at lunch, and I want to see his face light up when we don't expect to see each other, like the other day, at Target. He came around the corner and there he was. His eyes seemed to sparkle and he waved and I knew there was a new light in my eyes as we greeted each other. Maybe I imagined that one, I hope I didn't. I think that would hurt just a little inside. I don't want to hurt anymore. I don't want to be alone, I want to find someone, to be with someone. I want someone to care for me because they want to, not because they have to and I want to care for them because I want to, not because we share a gene pool. And I really want that person to be HIM. Not anyone else. Not his male best friend, or the soulless one. I want him. His blonde hair and his... smile. Is all of this too much to ask? Can I have the courage to do what I need? To say...? I just want to say: "I like Tony Fromen."