Awkward dumb non-existent love story

I think the first thing that really led me to believe that I was in love was the third time I spoke to her (speaking, in this sense, means only to communicate, in any conceivable way.) The first time had absolutely sparked nothing inside me that made me feel any different than before. We had played a card game, and that was it. One of her friends was there too, and so was Damien. I feel like I was much too busy doing my comedy shtick with Damien to really concentrate on anything, I had hit my head on the ice in my driveway that morning, so that might've had something to do with it. The second time, it was a bit different. By that, I mean the situation had so much tension and emotion in it, at least to me, that it stuck in my mind until the third time. The situation was simple, she walked into class and said hello, I said hello, and that was it. But what stuck with me was her facial expression. That smile, that beautiful, perfect smile. I'd see it in my head every time I close my eyes, I'd see her everywhere I go, in the street, in the hall at school, I began drawing her around then. I believe that it is kind of creepy to draw somebody you don't know, but at the time, I didn't know I was drawing her. In my mind, I was drawing a girl that I didn't think was real, just somebody I kept seeing in my head. There was one major problem with the drawing that I started noticing the further I got into making it: the face, or rather, the lack thereof. I still believe that there is no way to draw her face. It reminds me a bit of the Muslim religion, where people who attempt to draw the prophet Mohammed are killed because to recreate a prophet worse than what he or she looks like is offensive, like drawing Jesus in his underwear. The fact that Mohammed is perfect really solidifies the reasoning behind this, recreating perfection is an insult through all regards, there is no possible way to upgrade perfection, so there's nowhere to go but down. That was my mentality at the time, and not much has changed. Eight drawings later, the only one in which I attempt to draw her face is the only one I consider a failure.

-So the third time-

The third time we spoke could be a scene in a sitcom, the confidence and ignorance with which I spoke to her that day truly was a talent, and it's my sad truth to say that I haven't been able to truly recreate that confidence again. I'll set the stage here and script the conversation under this paragraph. So, we're in English class, and we all have to present a rant to a small group of people. The teacher specifically wanted us to do this exercise to learn how to improvise, so that's exactly what I did. There's a big difference between the way I usually speak and the way I speak when I'm acting. This difference is showed by my use of physical gestures and developed word scheme. So I begin planning for my rant. And I finish within the first five minutes. So what do I do next? I continue my drawing. This, again, at the time, did not seem odd to me. Afterall, I had not yet realised that I had been drawing her. I think she might've noticed though, because as I was drawing, she again started a conversation, a conversation which I hold in my mind as the greatest act of my life. So here it is.

Her: Shouldn't you be working on your rant?

Me: Oh I'm done that.

Her friend: Already?

Me: yeah, wanna hear it?

Her: sure.

So then I put on a nice show for the girls.

Me: Imagine, if you will, this normal, everyday situation. So you're with your friend, and you want to watch a movie, a movie that you've wanted to watch for a while now. So you're on Netflix, you find it, and you put it on. But then your friend opens a bag of chips. And they start eating, and all you can hear is the crunch crunch crunch of those annoying little potato slices. And you basically miss the movie, because all you can hear is chips.

This story works a lot better if you image all of my crazy hyperactive hand and arm gestures.

Me: And so the bag of chips is done, and now you can finally concentrate on the second half of the movie. But oh no, there's a second bag of chips. Why? Because you don't get full eating chips, you eat the whole bag, and then you just feel sick and sad and your temporarily malnourished brain can only think about how you want more chips. They don't fill you up!

Her friend: that is true.

I wish I could portray the intense emotion and acting talent that I put into this rant, in my opinion, it's the best scene I've ever put on by far. Anyway, the rant keeps going, and then it ends. And something magical happens: she smiles that wonderful, perfect beautiful smile. And it lights up my entire day. I actually almost cried when it was over, I could not believe that somebody like me could ever make something so perfect and pure happen, even for just a moment. And that's when it snapped. At the age of fifteen years old, I had found the person with which I wanted to live the rest of my life.
Later, something happened. I'm not sure what, which sucks, because it really is something that I need to remember for the possible future of our relationship. So after the rants, I realised that I had not yet heard hers. So I walk up to her and ask about it. She says it's stupid. I say I'd like to read it anyway. So she hands me her script. Then, the most crucial moment of that entire week: she says "sorry, my handwriting's bad". And I can't remember if I responded, to the core of my mind, I don't know what happened next. This may seem dumb to many people, but those people have definitely never truly been in love, and so they can't judge me for feeling bad. I might've just read her text and showed no emotion, or I might've told her that I really liked her handwriting. And this is the true divide in my mind when I ask myself whether or not I should ask her out. I think she's perfect, her handwriting was absolutely beautiful, but I don't know if I complimented her. This happened once again three months later, after I had realised, for a while, that I was in love with her. Except this time, I remember clearly that I did nothing. I didn't even respond. I think I might've laughed, but that's it. If I'm always going to be too awkward to speak to her like a normal person, if every time I see her I have to try to put on a show just so it doesn't turn out terrible, do I really deserve her? She's absolutely amazing, and I'm sure she knows that, but I know that I'm not. The amount of bad conversations we've had now rivals the amount of good conversations we've had, and I've tried to play it cool for so long that I might've already lost my chance. But maybe I haven't.

Maybe putting on a show isn't so bad.