A Little Background On My Insane Situation
So, here's a crazy story I'm pretty sure I'm going to make into a book someday because it is that crazy and out of this world--stranger than fiction, you know.
My freshman year of high school, my friend and I were living life on the edge, dojng the most crazy, usually instantly regretable things, but one of our favorite things was matchmaking and using our insane imaginations to come up with scandelous stories between people, especially teachers.
One day, we went to a basketball game and saw our homeroom teacher sitting extremely close to the rather creepy, sort-of-looks-like-a-serial-killer band teacher, Mr. P, who neither of us knew really well but instantly condemned as a sex-crazed man *****. Our imaginations went on a spree, and soon it all rolled into us sort of following him around, taking his simple actions of walking into the office, hugging fellow teachers, or laughing as some sort of crazy crime or something.
Sound weird yet? Well hold on, it gets worse. My friend and I were soon devoting all of our freetime to following Mr. P around, for some strange reason, even peeking into the teacher's lounge while he was eating and purposely walking past his office as often as possible. I really don't know why, but he was extremely intriguing, and while all of our other friends laughed, we remained hooked, especially me...unfortunately.
On his birthday--which we managed to find out--we threw a card under the teacher's lounge door while he was in there, stupidly, and even borrowed his phone a couple of times just to be in his office for a moment. Eventually, guilt ate away at me, especially when we'd notice his strange glances at us, because we were crazy, and I don't doubt he was silently freaking out inside, even though he was nice to us and would even say hi. So, in some sort of euphoria, I wrote this long, polite, heartfelt apology letter and put it in the mail before I realized how awkward the whole idea was.
Needless to say, I hated myself for a really long time, but Mr. P never brought it up, being the gentleman he is, and now its sophomore year, and I'm suddenly all to aware of the awful fact that I can't live without him. He's so amazing, charming, sweet, delightfully funny, extremely talented, amazingly intersting, with the most bewitching eyes, and I'm fairly certain I'm in love with him, considering how every day I go without seeing him or speaking to him, I consider the day a waste of my time.
I love him, and it sucks because if I were to tell anyone they'd condemn me as insane. I am insane! He's a teacher for christ's sake, a practically thirty year old, most likely--though it hasn't totally been confirmed, but actually practically certain--gay, not stunningly good looking guy, and I'm just a plain, painfully average almost-16 year old. And he probably hates me, not only for all of last year, but all the stupid things I've done this year.
But I don't want to bore you all to tears, so I'll tell the rest later.