Wednesday, January 9, 2008
The don't walk starts to flash when I see her. It's been well over a month now, but here we are. Opposite sides of the same street. She hasn't noticed me yet but my heartbeat quickens despite this. The orange warning blips closer and closer to our inevitable encounter and my mind is awash with how I'm going to handle the situation. A friendly hello? A wave and a smile? Or maybe ignorance is bliss and I should ignore her altogether. I quickly rationalize my way out of the latter scenario, realizing that said action could only make things worse. I wonder what 'worse,' in this case, could actually mean. Do I even want to see this girl again? Does she want to see me? She seems weird anyway. Or maybe I'm weird. As I continue attempting to grasp the greater significance of our relationship and it's implications on my interactions with women, I realize people are beginning to bump into me and cross the street. They fire off annoyed glares as I stand dumbstruck in my own self-contemplative state of disregard. She's closer now. I forgot how much I love the color of her hair. Five feet maybe. The warmth of her body. No, ten feet. The warmth of any body. I'm always bad at judging these things.