Insects have six jointed legs, four wings, three body segments, two antenna, and one exoskeleton.
Six: The number of times I got distracted during work today just thinking about the way your hair falls behind your ears. I have been teaching for nearly ten years but today I paid no attention to the way Lee refused to share blocks with Claire until they were both crying.
Four: The number of dances we had on Saturday. I remember the tunes we danced to were Siren's Fiddle, Apple Blossom, The Hat Thief, and Heartbeats in A. In that order.
Three: The number of times I was sure I should kiss you but didn't this weekend. Once after our third dance, once at the late night song share in the sheep shed, and once as we were saying good bye and you were gazing into my eyes and my heart was pounding and I looked away first.
Two: The number of days it has been since we danced. The number of days I have been thrilled at every text I have received from you. The number of days I have analyzed and studied, to the minute detail every interaction we had this weekend. The number of days every love song I have heard on the radio has been about you. The number of days I have been penning poems on perfume scented paper with hearts over the dots on the "i".
One: One juicy enormous stupid fabulous secret crush on you.
