Academically in Love

I have what I guess you'd call an 'academic crush' on one of my professors. This isn't like the time I fell hard and fast for my humanities prof because he was both brilliant and bore a remarkable resemblance to Robert Downey, Jr. Be still my heart!
But no; it's certainly not like that. Yes, this professor has grayed well, but he's not really a looker, at least not in my eyes. Maybe it's because his class makes me feel like a real psych major, instead of just a college student who happens to have taken a great many psychology classes. Or possibly it's because he's the only instructor I have that has taken the time to talk to me personally, to get involved in my life and pushed me to do better. While I don't attend a particularly large school, it's far bigger than I'm used to. Having one professor, or even just one person, recognize that I'm an intelligent, driven student--rather than a bleary-eyed, text-obsessed miscreant like the other ninety percent of the class--well, that means something.
I'm so afraid that I'll let him down, that his inspiration won't be enough for me to become an exceptional student. It would break my heart to fail him. And I can't help but wonder if my failure would affect him, too, or if I would just fade back into the crowd. If I would become just one more average student. What a terrible thing to be, average.
So when I get butterflies in my stomach and color in my cheeks when I see him, sure it's weird, but he's my academic crush. Just don't tell the dean.