Romancing a stone

I don't know what it is, but it's something. Drawing me toward you, heedless of circumstance, time, or difference. No pull in the reverse, though. Gravity works only in one direction. Odd, that. Unrequited was never my particular foible, preferring as I did to hold all the reins myself. In your presence I chatter incessantly, laugh too easily, adopt a persona I hardly recognize in the vain attempt to avoid you seeing me as I am; in other words, exactly like a certified school-girl crush in all respects... except I'm not in school, and you're obviously not a boy in my class -- or my league. Polished rock. So pretty, so shiny, so smooth... cold, hard, unreachable. They say water changes stone, carving it over time to angles and dimensions in harmony with water's need to reach the sea; but sometimes, stones change the watercourse instead.