I’ve been seeing
her a lot lately, making it a point to be wherever she is.

I wonder if she
can feel my eyes watching her… crawling over her skin, memorizing the zigzag
part of her hair and way her hips sway from side to side when she walks.

There’s so much I
want to ask her about, like if she sleeps on the right side of the bed or the
left, and what color her toothbrush is.

And if she liked
the picture I gave to her post owl. I wish I’d been there when she opened the
envelope. I’d love to have seen her expression… if she bit her bottom lips like
she does when she gets nervous. If she hugged the photo against her chest,
imagining someone like me. Or if her lips curled up into a smile worthy of a
magazine cover.

I took that
picture from across the courtyard, standing at the side of the Hogwarts tower.
I had my camera set to zoom as I waited for the perfect angle.

She looked so
nervous. She kept fidgeting with her bag strap and twisting her fingers through
her long blonde hair.

But who am I to
talk? I get nervous too. Whenever I see her, I can barely think straight. I try
to calm myself down – to remind myself to be patient, not be too anxious, that
I’ll soon have everything I want.

Inside my head, I
chant, “Calm, calm, calm.”