Look at her, walking around with no idea she makes your heart melt. Her hair flutters in the breeze, her skirt caresses perfect curves and her blouse puckers in the right places as she walks to her first class.

You watch her, mesmerized, yet unseen by her sparkling brown eyes and perfect dimpled smile. You imagine the look on her face when she pulls the single long stemmed rose from her locker attached to the note from her ‘secret admirer’. You grab your tuba and follow her.

You pause to tie your shoe on a bench in the hall a few yards from her locker. Your heart beats rapidly, drowning out the cacophony in the hall. She dials her combination and opens the door.

The note and rose fall to the floor. She looks up as a tall, handsome guy smiles, wraps his arm around her shoulders, and reaches for her books. She kicks the door closed behind her and steps on the rose, crushing it with her heel.

All your insides fall to pieces and you just sit there wishing you could still make love. But it’s over now.