Letters To Myself

Thou Hath Fallen Again

I lie in bed awake at night.
Thinking.
I'm positive that if anyone was able to hear my thoughts, they would flip. Not in a angry or negative way, per-say, just in a confused and questioning sort of way.
There's this boy.
Yes, I am aware that every time anyone of the male gender gives me any sort of attention, I lose my mind with over-analysis and fabricated realities. But nevertheless, it feels so real - so genuine and powerful that it's taking up every inch of my mind but I can't let it escape for fear of the criticism I would receive.
I know he's not thinking of me.
He probably has a girlfriend.
I don't know what he likes, or what he's like for that matter! We've had a small amount of interactions that have been so few-and-far between.
But man.
I want it to be more.

Though it's not the first time I've seen him, it's the first time we've talked. A school event, on a day off. My team trudged across a muddy field to challenge our next opponents in the sports tournament. As we made our way closer to our rivals and their faces came into view, I could tell the game would be trouble. A group of upperclassman, all athletic-looking but not jocks, dominant but not cocky. I recognized some of their team members from brief passings in the hallways, but I hadn't spoken to any of them. As my team of friends approached their group, I felt myself becoming increasingly more self aware. Are my legs too pale? Am I too fat? Do I smell bad from playing sports all day? Though I wish I could be cute in such situations, my mind and body go into auto-pilate. I become someone that I'm usually not - extremely loud, outgoing, obnoxious, confident - and though this sometimes works for my benefit in the moment, new-found friends often drift away when they discover that my real personality is that of an uncooked potato.
We come face-to-face with the team and get a good look at them. They get a good look at us. There's one member of the team that I've had my eye on for awhile. Getting closer, it's obvious to see that there are more opinions than what I had previously though. I get a particularly good look at a tall, blonde, athletic boy who I've seen before, but never stopped to consider. I write off the feelings I have as we start the game though. I know it will be rough, since they look like they know the game well and my team only got together to have a good time. Our losing record was not assisting us now. We took our places in the outfield and stood, waiting for the first pitch. As the ball rolled in and the first boy made contact, we could tell we were done for. The ball went flying over the farthest fence - home run. The boy took a leisurely stroll around the bases, getting high-fives and slaps on the butt from all his team members. The next few to step up to the plate were a similar story. This is when my uncensored and disturbing second persona started to shine through. I started yelling and cheering to pump everyone on our team up. That, coupled with my flamboyant movements and screeching at the top of my lungs at everything that happened probably made me look like I was have a mental episode. The boys agreed to take pity and ended the inning early so that we would have some chance to gain some points.

A few of the people on my team take their chance to kick, but I hang back, not wanting to make a fool of myself. Another inning passes in the same fashion, and I can sense that the game, and my chance to interact with them, will come to a close if I don't do something. I reluctantly step up to the plate. If I won't be able to talk to them, then I'll at least make them remember my name. I encourage my teammates to chant my name, saying I need some encouragement when I'm really just desperately trying to get their attention. As I turn back towards the boys, I see some of them laughing and a few are cheering along with my friends.
Victory.
I kick an easy one and get on a base, but it's not long before I make a dumb move and get myself out. For the next inning, I elect to take over third base. The inning starts as all the other have, the only difference is that now my strange behavior is a lot closer to the opposing team. A few more of the boys score runs and they seem to be giving a minimum amount of effort. I've resorted to bargaining with each of them to try and get them to take it easy on our team. It's then that I see the blonde boy from earlier approaching my base. For reasons that I'm still not sure of, I decided that I needed to make a comment to him, so I did the only thing that I could think of in that moment, I attempted to make a painfully unfunny joke. This joke however, came off as being more of a statement which didn't help my case. As he got closer to the base, I gestured away and made a funny movement to block it as I told him to look in the other direction, as if that would actually work to distract him. To my surprise, he played along, acting like he had been unable to locate the base all of the sudden. He eventually made an effort to reach the base to ensure his safety though. As our team fumbled with the ball while we tried to prepare for the next play, I made some comments about how poorly our team was preforming. The boy overheard and laughed. He then asked what grade we were in and I answered. Then I asked him the same, as if I didn't already know, and when he answered, I faked being surprised to find out that they were only one year older than us.
He smiled.
And my gosh, I've never felt my heart beat harder. I felt as if my tongue swelled up and I couldn't take my eyes off of him. Everything about him seemed perfect - from his strong hands, to his attire, even down to his teeth - he seemed utterly astounding. His strong gaze felt like it was holding me captive in the moment and I wanted to dance at the sound of his voice and adorable laugh. I wanted noting more then to stay in that moment forever, where I was being given his undivided attention and the world seemed to freeze around us, preserving the moment forever.
It was then that I was drawn back to reality, only to find that the next ball had been kicked, but he wasn't running. His teammates all made grand gestures to inspire him to run to home plate, but he wrote them off by raising a single finger, as if to illustrate that he had a plan. He then waited as the next ball was kicked. This time he would have to run or he would be out. But when the time came, he didn't. He stayed standing next to me as his teammates yelled for him to run. He started to take a slow jog to the plate, but watched the ball, as if waiting for us to get it. It seemed as if this was the longest time that it took for us to retire the ball and even then, the rest of the team hadn't caught on to the free opportunity he was giving us. He started to walk, sensing that it was taking longer than usual for us to retrieve the ball and once our attention was turned back to the play, I screamed for my teammates to get him out. He then took to the mud and did a slow dive, then rolled on the floor to buy some extra time for us. We eventually got coordinated enough to get him out and he walked back to join his team. I then yelled a quick thanks to him for giving us a free point, and he nodded ever so slightly.
It was shortly after then that the game ended and we went on our separate ways. Though I have to admit, he didn't leave my mind after that, and he hasn't since. I want more than anything to get to know him, but I'm far too afraid that he's already forgotten who I am and that if I approach him, I'll receive harsh treatment that crushes my hopes even more than they already have been.

Even now as I write this, I long to return to that moment - our moment which he has undoubtably forgotten. Though I know that it will only be a matter of time before I forget this interaction, I can't help but hope for something more.
Just something more.