She is me

She first comes in the room, and you barely notice her. You're probably too busy doing something else, remembering a requirement too late for comfort, and you're probably cramming it. In the middle of chattering students and idle patience, you smell a different whiff of perfume. You try to find where that comes from. You turn to your left, and realize that the seat is no longer empty. Another new face has taken its place.

She approaches you. Oh yes, she approaches you! You've been entranced for quite a while, but as with everything, you never really gave it much thought. You probably thought it will only last one term, maybe less, and it will go poof like genies in bottles. Yet, this is the moment you've always waited for. As she asks you the usual school stuff, you find yourself inspecting every bit of her, even if it's against your very beliefs. But you couldn't help it, and as things progress, you're taking quick, slight peeks at her. As if you weren't supposed to do so, because you need eye contact to make good conversations. Her eyes - yes, her eyes. They caught you by surprise.

She talks to your friends, and for some reason, she seems closer to then, You wonder why. You basically have the same interests, and yet she never really talks to you - at least the sustained ones that make someone seem like your average guy next door. You start thinking about yourself. There must be something that you can do about it, right? You must snag the conversation next time. You must sound intelligent, and make sure that your speech doesn't come off as flawed, because hers is just perfect. Then you concede to reality: you probably shouldn't be thinking about it.

She slowly becomes part of your world. You don't really ask for it, but it happens anyway. She now knows everyone you know, and you know almost everything about her, maybe a bit short of stalking, but it's quite inevitable. Sometimes you even wonder why you know these things. Maybe it's the way your nosy classmate tried to pry through her veil of secrecy, the way she told you that, if you feel something, you're better off not doing anything about it because of that rule about commitments. You learn that the world is small, and things would almost always inevitably lead to her.

She and you, you're being pretty tight too. But it's how you define tight that matters. Maybe you're seeing things in a pretty different light now, because for a moment you're used to seeing her around, to the point that you feel something missing when she is. Your heart sinks when a day ends without you hearing those giddy footsteps into the classroom, coupled with a weirdly sophisticated chatter that you've very much willing to trace. She never really opens up to you, but you never contest it; besides, she's almost always hidden something.

She becomes a point of the conversation. You feel uncomfortable about it, but you didn't start the discussion; you basically went with the flow and things ended up in shore. As you talk about the remotest things, and try to keep it happy by your definition, you start wondering why she always pops up in everything you do, say and think. You never really tried, or forced yourself to it. It just happens. You suddenly shut your mouth, puzzle your friend, and start revealing everything.

She continues working on that concept paper, as you consciously turn away from her. A friend just told you, that you would most probably have a preference for the person where your shoulders are locked to. You never really face the teacher; you face the girl beside you, who now considers you a friend. It's a good thing, you think, because you didn't have to make a fool of yourself. It won't go beyond that, you also think. You start on your concept paper, thinking you shouldn't have wasted any time. Everything will change, you decide, from that moment on.

She says goodbye to you, and as you walk away, you wonder why she never fails to say goodbye. You know she means well, but it couldn't possibly be more than a coincidence: you've tried many ways, and have lowered your expectations, but she always hears you and would be the first to answer back. You start thinking again, about the conversations that you two might be doing, and you start wondering, why does it all have to end with goodbye? The sentimental in you kicks in.

She seems so good at what she does, while you fumble and mess everything up. Is this what you think it is?

And your responses...

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