It's either a diary, a confession or a really long and boring obituary.
I am balloon and he is cactus
I am round hole and he is square block
I still can’t truly grasp the fact that he came into school today. The blur of his blue stripy shirt gagged me internally. I couldn’t speak; my only motive was to run. I walked past him, blushing and biting my lip so hard that the teeth marks remained until I reached registration, where I had to suck my bottom lip to stop crying and flatten the teeth marks. I know there is something fundamentally wrong, with how I react every time he’s around, but I was unprepared. I’ve been preparing myself mentally for not seeing him every day, and it was going well. I didn’t think of him often. Yes, when I went to bed and when I woke up he was there. In my mind, but there’s a difference between dreaming I'm seeing him, and seeing him.
His approach was worse. Tom doesn’t do “hello”
He’s more of a physical being. To say “hello” to me today, he threw a cricket ball at my foot. All I could do was smile, and say “Oi!” then walk off, before I made myself feel like more of a moron. It didn’t keep him away; he was soon repeatedly punching my shoulder until I turned to his beautiful smiling face, and his long inviting arms which wrapped around me into a platonic (on his part) hug.
But I am bringing you in at the end...If I'm brave enough to recall my unhappy ending, I should start from the beginning.