She doesn't know how I feel about her. She doesn't know, and that possibly bothers me more than anything. I look across the conference table that divides us currently, wishing only briefly that I could read inside her mind. Only then would I know for sure what she does, or doesn't (for that matter), feel for me.
It started a couple of years ago. Ok, so it started at the very beginning (as most things usually do). What I meant, however, is that my current dilemma started on the very first day that she walked into this very conference room, and into my life. I remember my first impression: who is this feminist witch and what is she thinking even considering joining my team? Then, only an instance later, something inside of me clicked. I can't explain it, but I noticed her bright blue eyes and her shimmering blonde hair. I always had a weakness for blondes, don't you know. NOticing her looks, though, that wasn't what struck me as strange that day. No, what struck me as strange was the fact that I noticed more than just her looks. I noticed the person behind the looks, the person who did not even hesitate to challenge me to an arm wrestling match in front of a bunch of other officers. I knew, right then and there, that I would have my hands full with her on my team, but I also knew, without a doubt, that I would unwillingly and undenibly enjoy every second of it. I always think back to this moment and smile because even then, I knew that she would be my one true weakness.
Now, here we are, a couple of years later. She is giving me the evil eye because I told the General that I disagreed with her plan. In all honesty, I didn't actually disagree with her plan. No. I think it's brilliant. Of course it is! She developed it. Everything she does is brilliant. I just wanted to see her give me the evil eye. I know. I know. It's probably not the most politically correct thing for me to do, but I just love to see the emotion in her face when she is passionate about something. The way her eyes light up, whether she is extremely happy or extremely mad (like now), oh, it is completely irresistable. It almost takes my breath away. Heck. Who am I kidding? If I didn't have the military training that I do to stay neutral in extremely difficult situations, it would completely take my breath away. She does that to me. She does that to me, and she doesn't even have to try.
I know that I can't do anything about this. I've known it since day one. She is under my chain of command. It's fate laughing us squarely in the face, and I firmly believe that we both know this. I am her commanding officer, and I have no intention of changing that any time soon. It's not that I don't want to know what it would be like to give into tempation and just hold her in my arms in a way that would show her, without a shadow of a doubt, how I feel. Oh, how I would love to relive that moment, during the time loop, where I held her so close and kissed her so fiercely. Those, however, are thoughts that will have to remain in my dreams, and I have to, no I have, come to terms with this. What we are doing here, what this program is all about, that has to take priority. Our self sacrifices are sometimes depressing, even down-right painful at times, but ultimately necessary for the greater good. The end justifies the means.
So, she doesn't know how I feel about her. She doesn't know, and I suppose that she possibly never trully will. Yes, this single, annoying little fact will continue to bother me every single day that I have to sit across from her at this conference table, and I will continue to wonder if she shares my feelings, but I will not, must not, act. So, I do what I always do. I sigh, act terribly annoyed at sometime said, and make my exit until another meeting, another day.
She must never know.