(no subject)
Thursdays are mostly my favorite days of the week, for a number of reasons and if only because I seem to run into her a lot on thursdays. Its a bit disconcerting though that I'm habitually leaving the halls she's invariably walking to, possessing this uncanny power to scatter all my made-for-the-movies hall encounter scenarios.
For one I'm always caught off guard, while reading handouts, miscellaneous graffiti and the invisible ink on my shoes, she melts into view (in a very silly I Can't Believe Its Not Butter! way.) Then eternity begins for the onepointthree seconds where I instinctively dive into her eyes and consequently break contact if only to suppress the oncoming slush of jumbled speech that I call conversation too inappropriate for the small talk involved in walking past each other in halls. And in so doing relegating myself to preparing the well worn standard lines that we seem to have agreed upon in some past life.
In the ensuing four seconds before she realizes that I'm firmly standing, yet pretending to walk, about an arm's length and a half away, a version of myself in a diferent dimension is hyperventillating. I, of course, remain suave as the moment does not become electric, there aren't a thousand explosions in the sky, the marching band absents itself and it becomes increasingly apparent that there will be no confetti.
There's none of that. Only this. This, which is waiting. This, which is doubting. This, which is far far away from cold days in the library. This, which is separated by a little length of life and the expanse of not-so-reckless youth that passes in ten seconds or less.
And then its over and we're past each other, if I'm lucky I get a smile in return and have to repress my clinically sterile narratives of that little crescent of joy. But I, once again, have been unable to muster the stupidity to stop, turn around and make up some nonsensical excuse to walk with her. I keep telling myself that I'm going to start being cool, really cool, because I don't really know what it is she is in to. and being cool is like a defensive position, safe 'to.
Nevertheless thursdays remain at the top of my list in the hopes that one cool thursday I'll actually get around to it.
For one I'm always caught off guard, while reading handouts, miscellaneous graffiti and the invisible ink on my shoes, she melts into view (in a very silly I Can't Believe Its Not Butter! way.) Then eternity begins for the onepointthree seconds where I instinctively dive into her eyes and consequently break contact if only to suppress the oncoming slush of jumbled speech that I call conversation too inappropriate for the small talk involved in walking past each other in halls. And in so doing relegating myself to preparing the well worn standard lines that we seem to have agreed upon in some past life.
In the ensuing four seconds before she realizes that I'm firmly standing, yet pretending to walk, about an arm's length and a half away, a version of myself in a diferent dimension is hyperventillating. I, of course, remain suave as the moment does not become electric, there aren't a thousand explosions in the sky, the marching band absents itself and it becomes increasingly apparent that there will be no confetti.
There's none of that. Only this. This, which is waiting. This, which is doubting. This, which is far far away from cold days in the library. This, which is separated by a little length of life and the expanse of not-so-reckless youth that passes in ten seconds or less.
And then its over and we're past each other, if I'm lucky I get a smile in return and have to repress my clinically sterile narratives of that little crescent of joy. But I, once again, have been unable to muster the stupidity to stop, turn around and make up some nonsensical excuse to walk with her. I keep telling myself that I'm going to start being cool, really cool, because I don't really know what it is she is in to. and being cool is like a defensive position, safe 'to.
Nevertheless thursdays remain at the top of my list in the hopes that one cool thursday I'll actually get around to it.