A Confession

Dear Person two seats away from me,

I think I like you. No, I really like you, like like you. I like the way you sit in class, bored out of your mind, with your sky-blue eyes staring holes into the wall, next to the professor, not at the professor. The way you bounce your pencil on your desk is like a symphony to me. Every time you flip your golden hair out of your face I can't help but notice. That bored sigh that escapes your frowning lips often distracts me from whatever the Professor's talking about today.

I wish I could tell you this face to face, but the half-asleep look on your face overwhelms me any time I step closer to you. Just one shake of your head makes me think you hate me, but I know that can't be true. The smile on your face the other day told me you like me too, like like me. So...want to write back to me sometime? My friends say I'm a pretty good conversationalist.

Sincerely yours (I hope)

Your secret admirer