Title: Her

Rating: G

Summary: A short monologue; someone is in love with one of the Gilmore girls, but who is it?

Disclaimer: The Gilmore Girls characters, although I mention no one directly, do not belong to me. I'm not making any money by writing about them; I do it because I enjoy it.



I think I'm in love.

There. I said it. You see? It's not impossible for me to be honest about my feelings! I can be open and warm and, yes, even mushy on occasions. Although I don't think she'd ever believe me if I told her that even I cry at the occasional sad movie I catch while flipping channels on TV. Wait, now I'm getting off topic.

Her. Just picturing her face in my mind gives me the chills. See, I don't think I've ever felt this way before - and before you say anything, there have been others. Of course there have been others. But let's not get into that; I don't care about them. I care about her.

What is it about her, exactly? Her long, shining brown hair - the way it swishes around her shoulders when she walks; how she'll sometimes twirl a strand around her finger when she's deep in thought; even the way it smells, sweet and clean, like fresh fruit.

Her eyes - how can they be so calm and encouraging when we're deep in conversation, and then flashing with anger a split second later when I've undoubtedly said something wrong? And believe me, I've seen them both ways many times!

No, what I love most about her is the little things. I love her quirks, her peculiarities, her personality. I love the way she bites her lip when she's unsure about something and the way she stomps her feet like a little girl when we're bickering and she knows I know how irritating I'm being. I love the masses of weird trivia she keeps stored in her mind, able to spit it out like a computer on command. I love the way she looks when I surprise her by saying something profound or sympathetic when she's least expecting it.

Will I ever tell her? That's the second-most thing I think about (the wonder of her being the first, obviously). While I'm brushing my teeth, when I'm taking a walk or lying awake in bed late at night, that question reverberates in my head like an echo in a cave. Will I tell her? Should I tell her? Can I tell her? I've done many things in my life that require courage, but face the young woman I love, stare into her eyes, and tell her of my feelings for her? I think I'm too much of a coward to do that. I can't imagine what I would do if she didn't feel the same way.

And that mother of hers! She's certainly a force to be reckoned with! How would she react to the news of us? I know I'm not what she imagined for her little girl, and although their relationship is the exception, not the rule, when it comes to mother-daughter relationships, I can't really see her encouraging our relationship.

Is it painful for me? Sure it is, especially when I catch a glimpse of her with someone else, some guy that's completely below her in every way, that doesn't really know her or appreciate her. But, like I said, I just can't tell her. So everything will go on as usual. We'll talk, joke, fight, and, yes, flirt a little, just as we always do. And she'll walk away completely and blissfully unaware of my feelings for her.