Every week I watch you at rehearsal from a distance trying to take in every detail of your profile, your smile, and your movements. From the moment you walk in the door until the moment you leave my sight, my heart beats a little faster. You have such an energy about you. Even when I picture you in my mind, my heart races. When you settle in and sit down at the piano, I watch your fingers move and I admire your gentle touch and think, "These are the hands of an artist." So cliché, but true. I remember the night after a concert when I was waiting to say good bye and you reached over and took my hand. I didn't ever want to let go.

When I stand next to you, I compare our heights. I have decided that we were made for each other. My chin would rest comfortably on your shoulder, your arms would wrap snugly around my waist, and my hand would fit perfectly in yours. Even though your manner is very gentle, I sense that your embrace would be strong and protective. I would give anything in the world for just one minute in your arms.

I try to imprint the sound of your voice in my mind; the inflections....the expression of your moods and opinions. I want to get into your head. You're so interesting to me. I feel I could sit for hours and be enthralled by stories of your childhood and your career. You've traveled so far for someone so young. I find it inspiring. Your voice relaxes me. It's gentle like the rest of you.

Your sense of humor thrills me. I think about things you said even days after and laugh out loud. You make me smile. When I can do the same for you, it's like a reward. I have succeeded in making you happy. I love how your smile is gradual. It starts on the left and then pauses for a brief moment before it continues on the right. When your laugh accompanies that smile, it's like a bonus. Your eyes actually light up. Yet another cliché ... but they do. Your eyes say so much that I'm almost scared to look for too long.

I don't know why I can't get you off my mind. I see other guys who have similar personalities or qualities and I think, "He's cute. I could fall for him." But I always go back to you. I'm always comparing other guys with you. Maybe we were together in a past life, or it could just be my overactive imagination building you up to be someone you're not.

So I'll settle for seeing you every week at rehearsal. Maybe you have noticed how I am constantly struggling to draw attention to myself there. I'm desperate for any interaction with you whatsoever. This is all very unhealthy I think. It frustrates me to no end. I'm not crazy, just forgetful from time to time. I get swept away into my little world with you in it. I actually believe it could happen. Then I come to my senses.

You're 37 and I'm 21.

I hope you have a younger brother stashed away somewhere.

All my love if you will ever accept it,

Kristin (the really loud girl in chorus whose name never comes to mind)