"I read bad poetry into your machine..."

File Under: "Dave Should Know Better Than to Get So Attached."

I'm not in love, but I'm pretty close. I can't help it. I mean, really, I wish I could make it stop. But every time I see her, I'm just...whew. It makes the world that much sweeter. I spend a few hours, not even talking to her, just being around her, and I can think of nothing but her for the rest of the day. Such was the case Sunday.

To see her smile sends shockwaves. She simply smiled at me, and I got that all-too-familiar "punched-in-the-gut" feeling. We (the group) were eating lunch, and I was watching her son eat with the measured determination that all two-year-olds possess. I smiled as I watched him, then looked up to see her smiling at me. Not saying anything, just smiling at my smiling at her son, and then she turned her head to watch her son.

It's a good thing I was sitting, because her smile would have knocked me over. It was so clear, so kind. A pure sunbeam of a smile. And it made my stomach hurt, but in a good way.

There was another time, later, when I was making a point about something or telling a story, and as I reached the end, I looked over to her. She was listening, smiling (that smile!)--and I completely lost my train of thought. Completely gone. My last words were "so, yeah..." After a second, she teased, "So yeah?" I was at a loss. I just half-shrugged, shaking my head as if to say, I don't know.

My whole train of thought derailed by a single smile. Scary.

I don't know too much about her, really. Vagueries at best. But I desperately want to get to know her better, to learn everything there is to know about her. Every time there's a group event, I wonder if (hope that) she'll be there. I look forward to every opportunity to see her, even just to say hi.

You know what? Strike that opening sentence. I'm there, baby. Too late to turn back now.