I met an angel disguised in a school uniform. Not the biblical kind with wings and halos, but the kind that makes time freeze in high school hallways.

The afternoon sun painted lazy shadows through the windows, and summer vacation whispered promises from just around the corner. Last period was approaching – that magical time when freedom feels close enough to taste.

Then she emerged from Room 2B.

Her presence commanded attention without demanding it. Dark hair twisted into a precise bun, not a strand out of place. She moved with the quiet confidence of someone who had never questioned their place in the world. Her eyes – sharp and focused – contradicted the soft curve of her smile as she responded to something her friend whispered.

The sight was devastating. Literally. My lungs forgot their one job.

Hold up.

Is this even legal? You can't just walk around casually committing respiratory theft. There should be warnings, permits, something. I should call the authorities. “Hello, police? I'd like to report a robbery. The perpetrator stole my ability to breathe. Description? Well, she looks like spring morning wrapped in human form.”

What if I had asthma? What if I was in the middle of an important breathing competition? The audacity of this cardiac arrest in a school uniform!

I'm filing a formal complaint with the universe. Love at first sight should come with a safety manual and oxygen backup. This is workplace hazard level stuff.

You know what? I choose life. And regular breathing patterns. Keep your butterflies and racing hearts – I'm going to go hyperventilate in the nurse's office like a sensible person.