a love letter

most of the time, i am reasonable. i am not the psychotic stalker i used to be. i will never drive by your house and crawl into your window. i will never pull a kitchen knife on you, will never press a taser to the skin of your throat. i will never sleep with you under the pretense that i'm not looking for any thing serious, and then insist you commit to me and only me, thus driving you away much more rapidly than i had ever intended.

most of the time, i am reasonable. i don't feel heartbroken, because i know. i know, you are much older than me, i am too young for you. i know, you have a child. i know, you don't wear a ring, but that doesn't mean someone else hasn't already claimed you, that you haven't already claimed someone much more beautiful, much more exotic, much more interesting. i know, there is too much of a wiggle in my belly, around my hips. i know, i smoke, and it's disgusting. i know, sometimes you are arrogant, and maybe just a little misogynistic. i know, it will never happen.

but:

when you hand back my graded papers, i think -this squiggly line, here, it's kind of shaped like a little heart. sometimes, some nights, i imagine, maybe, you're looking at me in a way i'd liked to be looked at by someone exactly like you. sometimes, i catch you looking at me out of the corner of my eye - i wasn't talking, there wasn't a reason, you just wanted to look, just wanted to stare dreamily at me with your cheek resting gently against your hand - and i wonder if it means something. sometimes, when you smile at me, i'm sure that smile is different than the smiles you give to everyone else.

you should know you make me a little nervous. you should know this isn't the first time. you should know i'm buying step two of the nicotine patch tonight, and that i'm throwing out all of my cigarettes. you should know that, if i had the money, i would join a gym, go kyaking, do yoga. you should know i sometimes jog with my dog in the park. you should know i'm writing this only because it's completely safe, completely anonymous, and at the same time, because there is a microscopic chance you will read this and know it is me. you should know i stare at the crotch of your pants in class, sometimes. you should know i wouldn't mind making out with you in the back of my ex's subaru. you should know i have plans to ask you out for a drink, plans i will never go through with because i'd vomit on you just thinking the words in my head in your presence. you should know, even though i know better, i'm going to keep waiting, keep looking for that perfect moment when you tell me something i want to hear with your eyes, with your hands, with your mouth. you should know that i just can't help myself.