I stopped by your work tonight but you weren't there. One of your coworkers was kind enough to inform me that I'm your favorite and I, hoping that the mask hid most of my blushing, mumbled something about how I've known you for years and knew a couple of other people you've worked with too because I keep coming in all the time. What I didn't dare breathe a word of were the tingles that immediately raced up my spine and shot electricity through every nerve ending at the mention of your name, the hint that you might prefer me on any level. I couldn't risk hinting at the fact that I consistently face the very real danger of getting lost in your eyes every time you smile and I see them sparkle, or that even the memory of your smile makes my heart race and my breath catch in my throat. I didn't realize then that my heart would be fluttering and I'd still be smiling with songs and half-formed daydreams racing through my mind hours later, but here I am with no idea when I might come back to earth - one more thing I'll have to carefully avoid ever mentioning.
You are fascinating and mysterious and alluring in ways I can barely articulate and I can immediately think of at least a half a dozen reasons I can never let a word of this slip face to face no matter how long I've wanted to do exactly that or how I ache to see your reaction when I make it clear how completely smitten I've become. I don't even know when. A month? A year? Forever?
This brief little memory of an offhand comment is going to drive me to distraction for quite some time, I imagine.
You are my favorite. So much so that you have a profound effect on me even from miles away, even as a memory.
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