Falling in Love...

Sploosh. 

Splat.

Poof.

I'm not sure which sound I've made yet, but I've fallen and can't – won't – get up.

I do believe that I'm falling in love with my students.

I have a hard time saying THE three words. If I've ever said "I love you" in so many words, consider yourself one of the elite few. It's not that I dislike you, or that I don't love you; it's just something that I save up, as if my "ILU" club has a capacity of only a handful of people. 

That's what makes this realization even more profound, shocking, earth-shaking.

 Students drive me up the wall. They're often selfish, boisterous, and disrespectful.

But 

just seeing a student can make me smile, make grey skies blue, lift the burden of teaching.

There's no logic to it.

But then, 

love isn't logical,

is it?

I'm going to love that one.

They'll do the best, be the brightest, achieve the most.

They deserve my love. I only have so much, you know.

Nope. Too logical.

That one?? They don't take life seriously. They don't take me seriously. 

They skip classes, miss assignments, and are selfish. 

Not that one.

Sploosh.

They tolerate me. They might roll their eyes, but they pretend to listen. 

Sometimes they even laugh at my jokes. 

"You're one of the faculty we'll miss, Ms. Jessica!"

To me, that statement sounds just like THE three words.

I do believe that I'm falling in love with my students.

And I'm going to miss them terribly.