A/N: Okay so, here is my first work of original fiction. This is based on my actual crush on my religion teacher. Chapters 2 and 3 should be up shortly. Enjoy everyone! 

11/25/09-11/29/09

Everyone assumes that it is a simple teenage crush. They think that it could never be real; that my feelings are untrue or unreal. Everything is against me; everything is against my feelings. I hang on your every word and wish that, for once, the feelings would be returned. The day you asked to speak to me after class, my heart soared. You asked about my well-being and made sure that I was okay after the class's discussion. My eyes began to water under your stare that was so filled with some form of caring. I guess as you saw my eyes tear up it struck something in you. Your tears began to pool in your eyes and I couldn't help but get lost in their green depths. We couldn't allow out tears to fall, for fear of letting our walls down that we've tried to build up for so long. The look of pure sympathy in your glowing, sparkling eyes made me want to crumble to the ground and allow you to take the pain away. Our eye contact broke and we both took steps away, removing ourselves from the connection before it became too much. I left in a hurry, not wanting you to see what our exchange did to me. I went through the rest of the day in a daze and didn't have time to analyze our 'moment' until I came home. It's almost like a dream now; the reliving of such a happy moment for me. I thought of our conversation for hours upon hours for two days until the day of the dinner and dance. You were going to be there watching over all the students in the school, myself included. Until that night you avoided all contact with me. This action both confused and intrigued me. That day you were so happy… so free. My friends and assumed it was because you're so young. I continued throughout the day as I normally would, only occasionally allowing my thoughts to drift to you. I went home and got ready for one of the most amazing nights of my life. I looked beautiful, or so I'd been told. It wasn't until you acknowledged my existence that I truly felt beautiful. I wished that it was appropriate for you and me to go behind closed doors for a moment but we both knew that it was impossible. You waved at everyone and I waved back. You went around the table and complimented everyone, everyone except me that is. I have to wonder why. The dinner went smoothly, the two of us politely ignoring one another. When we students had been ushered into the gym for the dancing portion of the evening, I lost sight of you. I danced and danced with my friend in my own little corner. Another of the teachers, almost as beautiful as you, approached me about not being in the large crowd of kids. She was well aware of my separation from others. I appreciated her concern but I wished it had been you worrying over me. The teacher, Alison Posner, left me alone for the rest of the night but she always kept an eye on me. I rarely saw you and if I did, you were looking the other way. I danced dirty and I danced freely, both causing some unimpressed looks thrown my way. Alison and I am sure yourself included. You were neither judgmental nor appreciative of it. By the end of the night I was incredibly tired and also a little upset due to you ignoring me all night. I wished that it was you who came to find me afterwards to see how I was; it was not you. It was Alison. She asked me about my night and if I had had a good time, which, aside from the obvious, I did. I once again mentioned that I am a loner and that that is how I like it. She was well aware of my apprehension towards other and used that knowledge to her advantage; smart woman. I cannot be sure of what will take place now that our connection has been broken for two days. I can only hope that the awkwardness was due only to that night and what it had entailed.

*Stay tuned for things to come in this wondrous love story between student and teacher. I know it may seem as if it is a one sided appeal but soon that determination may be reworked.*