Your smile is crooked and I hate it. I hate it because it's so beautiful, I wish you'd smile all the time. And I hate it because I wish I didn't have to work so hard to make you smile. 

I try to focus on whatever the teacher is saying but it's no use when you decide to sit down next to me. I look anxiously at your right hand sitting lazily near my left as you're doing the task. I usually would have solved this equation in a matter of seconds, but now I have even forgotten that '1+1=2'. What if you had softly interlaced your fingers with mine? What if you had pulled me in for a kiss? What would it have tasted like? 

Oh, no! This can't be happening, I used to see only my goals and now I act like a fool!