I've waited my whole life for this. To fall in love. I just never thought it'd be like this. Sixteen years of my life yarning for this feeling, hoping to feel complete.

But this?

I always reminded myself of all the old clichés. I never wanted to be one.
Now all I do is wish. I wish to hold him, to savor the taste of him on my lips. What I settle for is so much less, but I've learned it's the little things that matter. A brief clash of eyes, a small smile.

If I took a step back, I'd laugh at myself. For being so stupid. I feel a yearning deep within my soul. He's in my blood. His voice echoes between my ears. His memory stamped on my heart.

I don't stand back. If I did, I'd cry. Yes, I'd laugh at myself for being so childish, but I'd cry for what could never be.

He's taught me so much, but he knows so little. He'll never know the way my breath catches or how my heart skips a beat when I glimpse him in the hall. He'll never know the passionate embraces and steamy moments we share whirling around behind my eyes.

His age doesn't faze me. True love knows no boundaries. Unfortunately, society imbeds itself in our skulls. Too many what ifs appear out of the woodwork. What if he doesn't feel the same? Or worse yet, what if I'm just another face in the crowd?

For now, my desires boil inside me, front and center. If he knew my thoughts, he'd blush. Thoughts of wanting to ravish him on his desk. For now, he stays fully clothed, my thoughts remaining a mystery to him as he teaches.

But silently I tell my self "Ganbatte ne!"