I’VE started this post a couple of times now, but after so long not writing here didn’t know where to begin and got distracted.
So, yeah, where to start. Hmmmm.
So last Thursday. (It’s been 10 minutes since I wrote those three words; this is going to take a while) So, last Thursday. Last Thursday at lunchtime I went for a walk with the girl. It was amazing. She was happy; I was happy. We had a great conversation and I thought this is going to go somewhere. If I could capture that half hour and bottle it people would pay big money for it. I walked back into the office with a sense of a man who’d been successful in life and love. I visioned joyful things.
And then. And then it was about 3.45pm and I had to leave work to take a picture of a swimmer at a beach town about 25 minutes away. So I grabbed a camera and my stuff to take home and walked out of the office and around the corner with car keys in my hand. And walked about 10m and there he was. (This is going really badly; I’ve written 187 words in an hour and a half). And I was nervous as hell and my face fell almost by itself. And then it was as if a pleasant lunchtime walk meant nothing as thoughts of this guy bombarded me for the rest of the night.
Rewind almost three weeks. I saw this guy about seven times in two weeks after not seeing him for a couple of months. I’d found him attractive before for some reason and about four months ago he had been serving at the supermarket check-out and I’d desperately, irrationally wanted to go through his aisle. So, yeah, he was in my head and I wasn’t really fighting it as the first pleasure of infatuation was appealing. But when you’re walking down the street and your stomach jumps because you’ve sighted his dark hair you know something’s gone awry. It annoyed me because I was okay with the infatuation as it was a person I don’t see often and it seemed quite minor.
So yeah. I wanted to want the girl more than him too, but I didn’t.