I feel like even more of a lovesick romantic. I know now that I'm not imagining the light, unnoticable to anyone but us touches in the halls, the quick smiles, the stupid doe-eyes. It's not helping me concentrate on anything, not helping me sleep. I spend my time with my face in my homework grinning and trying to contain all the feelings welling up inside, readying themselves to burst out in one collective squeal. And I see him, and I think of everything. I think about Friday night and I feel that oh-so-familiar tightening in my stomach, and I feel the tingles and the swells in and around me. I want him so bad. Just to touch him, just a light touch, and soft linger of my fingers on his skin.