Light headed, I gathered myself from the hardwood floor. The sunbeams shining from your face picked me up. At that moment I understood all the floating cartoon characters with hearts in their eyes. Parents had warned me of this when I was five. That the ones who are worth it, will drive you crazy-insane-mad ten ways to Sunday. This I scoffed at. But beyond all logic and science and everything that I thought I learned from biology class, you turned out to be more than ‘worth it.’ My mental state suddenly speaks back to me, “Oh boy, this can’t be good…” Then, squeaks from the hardwood floor and brace-faced peers shuffling about snap me back to a full gym but the only spotlight is on you. This is not a concussion. This is not just a school dance. This is the dance and the madness and the way you hold the throw pillow during movies and the thing that books, paintings, and this rambling attempts to capture but does not even come close. So…yeah. When the chaperones walk over to check on me, I’ll say: “I am more than okay and this is more than worth it.” They will be perplexed and witness me floating to the nurse’s office, hearts in my eyes with a crazy-insane-madness never before diagnosed.