Andy in Love

"What could possibly go wrong?" runs through my head.
"I'll tell you," said my subconscious thoughts, rattling away like voices in my head. "She might completely and utterly hate you."
"Urr, that's bad?" I ask.
"Yeah, pretty serious, if you really love her so much," my subconscious tells me. "Which you do?"
"Are you stupid? Have you been living under a rock?" I ask. Politely.
"I've been living inside your freakin' skull. So yes, I suppose you could say..." My subconscious thoughts are cut off by the sight of her.
Standing there. So beautiful. So, incredibly, mind-numbingly fantastic. I look at her. A music teacher asks me if I'm lost. I say, "no". Which was a complete lie; I am pretty goddamn lost, but she was here now, so I felt a bit better.
She leads me to a music room, and so begins the first day of the rest of my life.
"She could like you," my subconscious cuts back, shriller than a canary on crack.
"Alrighty," I think. Loudly. "How is that bad? Isn't that incredibly satisfactory?"
"Not if you love her. With all your fat little heart," subconscious mind says. "She could just want to be friends."
"Oh, no!" I think.
By this time I'm at the piano. Why am I at the piano? Aren't I telling her I love her? Ah, screw that, I play her... her song. Ode to Her. It helps me. It wows her. Holy shit, it works.
She walks away at the end of our talk with a feeling of complete awe smothered across her face. I am happy. She seems happy. But would fate rear it's ugly, somewhat cliched head and kill this sense of happiness?

Yes.

Consider this my apology, Janani.