I think I’m in love with her. The real, scary thing. Not lust or fascination or obsession or any diluted form of it. I think I truly love her, to the point that I hate what my life looks like without her in it. To the point that, if I miraculously make it to the pros, I’ll look up in the stands at the tens of thousands of people packed in to see me play, and it won’t matter very much if hers isn’t one of the faces in the crowd.
