You can tell by the way she stares. You can tell by her smile — big bright and pearly white or just a small, playful smirk. You can tell by the way she tilts her head to the left ever so slightly and chews on her lower lip whenever you speak. You can tell by the way she can be unusually quiet, just absorbing that moment in what little time she could possibly have sitting next to you in a busy coffee shop while you read some crap for school.
But really, it’s in her eyes. You’ll see it in the way they flicker when she wakes up to you making pancakes or dance and sing to a song she doesn’t know. The way they focus on certain things, your own eyes and the way you use three fingers to swat a fly away. The way she traces your every move and body part with them, from your jaw to your big toes. The way they brighten up and glaze over whenever you walk into a room.
You might find it cute. You might find it weird — creepy, even. You might just choose to disregard any feelings on the matter and just let it be. But let me fill you in: if you know for sure that she writes, whatever it is you did, you’ve inspired her. Even if you’ve done nothing but nothing but merely exist, somehow you’ve inspired her. If you ask her nicely, you can find pages of you and your adventures. By now, she’s written maybe a dozen poems, a couple of short stories and has probably profiled a thousand characters with lines loosely based on something you’ve told her. Right now, she’s probably trying to find the right words to express just how amazing you have become through her eyes, how she could possibly do justice to the graceful way you dive into the ocean or touch your paintbrush to the canvas or sophisticatedly exhale your cigarette breath. Never be surprised when you find yourself staring at a conversation you’ve once had in an editorial piece she wrote for some puff magazine. And don’t be creeped out either. Take it in the form of a compliment. For a writer, it is the best one we can give you. Because chances are, she’ll have a hard time expressing it verbally — if she actually takes the time to try, consider yourself even luckier.
And maybe she isn’t in love with you. Perhaps she is just infatuated. Perhaps she just loves you like her che’lu. Or perhaps it was just a moment of spurred inspiration that helped with her writer’s block.
But whether love or lust.
And whether it’s forever or in passing.
At least you know she’s fascinated by you — even in just that moment.
At least you know that even if just for a little while — even if just to her — you were immortalized.