Post by lilikoi on Dec 11, 2017 19:11:13 GMT -5
I used to mock people who believed in love at first sight. Don't get me wrong, I still don't believe in it, but I’m a little more understanding of their plight. There are a few factors of this spontaneous attraction that I’ve learned to come to terms with. How we can pick a soulmate out of a crowd. Or a classroom. At first, I really thought I was just staring at her because I needed some sort of distraction from the painstaking voice of the professor at the front. Said professor had somehow managed to meld together every accent I’ve ever heard in my life and then some. So attempting to understand her was kind of out of the question. But my fixation on her had started before anything to do with the lecture had even begun. In a crowded hallway, I saw her. I thought I just couldn’t get over her outfit. Perfectly molded to define every aspect of her flawless figure. I told myself it was a game to pass the time—how long can I stare without getting caught. I was a bit of a mess that morning—no, not only because of my elementary tactics of handling what could be considered a crush. A fascination, as I called it at the time. As I still called it a week later. As I’m starting to question the more I use it. You see, fascination with her beauty, I could explain. Her skin was what I could only describe as a cup of perfect hot chocolate. Her freckles were just the little bits of powder that clumped up and refused to be stirred in—y’know, the reason it gets super sweet when you’re almost done, cause it all sinks to the bottom. She had curls that appeared to have each been individually molded and drenched in ink. It was all tied up on top of her head—likely to reign it in, but I instantaneously made a resolution to see it resting freely one day. Somehow, her face resembled that of someone who’s seen everything there is to see, known everything there is to know, and been everywhere there is to be. Yet it still retained a softness—a gentleness of innocence, of kindness. She wore a shirt that cut off just above the beginning of her stomach, the neckline curving gently around the slope of her chest. Her back arched smoothly against the table, and I could do nothing—think nothing—but to admire. I couldn’t talk to her. No—there was no way someone like me could talk to her. But it didn’t matter. She’d likely show up to the next class in a t-shirt and jeans, and the spell would be broken. And I was half-right. I’m sure I don’t need to expand on which half. Even in the excessively plain attire, I couldn’t move my eyes off her. Or if I could, they just kept going back. Come the end of class, I watched her walk out the door. And I decided that one day, she wasn’t going to do that. Not without me.
I didn’t know when—but I knew it would have to happen. I waited until she was long gone and left as well. I came up with a plan a couple days later. That Friday, the class before ours would be cancelled, and it gave me a little more time to get ready in the morning. So I’d get all dressed up—wear makeup for once in my life and even wear a dress, as well as those shoes that aren’t really suited for walking, but people walk in them anyway. And I would go up to her and say, “Hey, have you ever been to that Asian place just a ways down from the student center?” But here’s the thing…that introduction left room for a variable. Fortunately, it was only two. I was thinking them over in the shower that night as I double and triple shampooed my hair and applied so much soap, I think it actually mixed into my blood. I decided that if she said yes, I would tell her, “Oh, cool, I’ve been looking for someone who could show me what’s good there. I’m buying if you’re down.” And if she said no, I’d say, “Oh, cool. I’ve been looking for someone to scout the place out with me. I’m buying if you’re down.” Notice how both instances involved strongly emphasizing the fact that no money would be involved from her, because what human being isn’t enticed by free food? It wasn’t like a gentlemanly—gentlewomanly tactic—no, it was supposed to be like a mousetrap, only less deadly. Probably…
Anyway, as we all know, life is full of variables. Regardless of what she said, there were a lot of other things that could get in the way. So x and y couldn’t stop at that. And I guess this really only occurred to me in class the next day, so instead of taking notes on how it’s possible to combine French, Russian, Irish, and Czechoslovakian speech patterns into one voice, I started writing out little responses to the objections that may come up.
“I have a boyfriend…”
“Dude, don’t worry, it’s not a date…I’m just trying to make friends and meet new people.”
“I have a class right after this.”
“Oh, that sucks. Well good luck with that. And hey, if you ever don’t have a class after this one, the offer is always open.”
“I already had lunch.”
“Oh, no big. We can just grab drinks. I hear they have great bubble tea.”
“I have plans.”
“Oh, cool, cool. Well if you don’t have plans sometime after class, the offer still stands.”
All of these actually had some sort of like, hey, I get it if you don’t want to go, it’s been a crazy week, but if you want to go some other time, please, dear God, hit me up. So walking out of class, she was a bit ahead of me, and I couldn’t stop her with an overwhelming air of casualness, and therefore there were alarms blaring in my head going—“Abandon ship! You screwed it up!” And somehow…I ignored them. I go,
“Hey!”
And she actually turns and acknowledges me. And I’m like…holy crap. I did not expect that to work. Anyway, I gave her my introduction, and she’s like,
“Oh yeah, I’ve been there. It’s awesome!” And I stop and think…okay, this is good. So I continue. Asking her out—casually.
It’s not a date! Don’t get scared!
And my next possible lines are all scrolling through my head while I’m still saying second part. In hindsight, I wonder if some of them actually came out of my mouth and profoundly confused her in regards to what I was trying to tell her. But what she ended up saying in response was something I didn’t even consider—something I don’t think I was even able to consider being her response.
“Yeah, sure!”
It stopped me in my tracks. I was just like…uh…unrecognized response…****! But I got it together, and we walked up there and exchanged formalities. And as it turned out by the end of the not-date, she was the most perfect human being I’d ever met. Half of me went on that outing to prove that she wasn’t worth pursuing, and that she was all looks, and I was wrong in all my stupid “love at first sight” judgements. But no, she was…flawless. I guess therein was the issue. Who was I to even consider dating someone like her. I wasn’t even supposed to be dating—I’d made that promise the previous year. But something about her was…captivating. We all had our flaws, but it seemed like she didn’t. Then again, that’s hardly the thing you can find out on a first not-date. So, maybe there was something I missed. There had to be. So I’d keep not-dating her until I found out what it was.
That was the plan anyway. Turned out, she ended up dropping the class we shared. We never spoke again. Although I did see her, I couldn’t find a way to talk to her. So, yeah, not exactly the happy ending you were expecting, right? Half of me wishes it hadn’t ended like that…that she’d stayed, and I’d remain mesmerized by her beauty and the impossible warmth of her heart. But the other half is able to stand back, willing to accept that the perfection of that first not-date was the best way to end things. It wouldn’t be long before we found the flaws in one another, struggling against the impossibility of a relationship that wouldn’t work, still entranced by the possibility of a perfect future perpetrated by “love at first sight”. Our interactions would become stagnant, tiptoeing over the cracking glass of the illusion that this was meant to be. This way, she could live on as the goddess I believed she was, and I could live on in her mind as whatever better version of myself she perceived me to be.
So no…no storybook ending here. At least, not with her. After resigning myself to stop seeking out relationships, I found myself captivated by a pair of eyes possessed by the ocean, coupled with a demeanor as secretive as the depths of the sea. And before you ask, no, it wasn’t love at first sight…
So I guess that’s a good sign, isn’t it?
I didn’t know when—but I knew it would have to happen. I waited until she was long gone and left as well. I came up with a plan a couple days later. That Friday, the class before ours would be cancelled, and it gave me a little more time to get ready in the morning. So I’d get all dressed up—wear makeup for once in my life and even wear a dress, as well as those shoes that aren’t really suited for walking, but people walk in them anyway. And I would go up to her and say, “Hey, have you ever been to that Asian place just a ways down from the student center?” But here’s the thing…that introduction left room for a variable. Fortunately, it was only two. I was thinking them over in the shower that night as I double and triple shampooed my hair and applied so much soap, I think it actually mixed into my blood. I decided that if she said yes, I would tell her, “Oh, cool, I’ve been looking for someone who could show me what’s good there. I’m buying if you’re down.” And if she said no, I’d say, “Oh, cool. I’ve been looking for someone to scout the place out with me. I’m buying if you’re down.” Notice how both instances involved strongly emphasizing the fact that no money would be involved from her, because what human being isn’t enticed by free food? It wasn’t like a gentlemanly—gentlewomanly tactic—no, it was supposed to be like a mousetrap, only less deadly. Probably…
Anyway, as we all know, life is full of variables. Regardless of what she said, there were a lot of other things that could get in the way. So x and y couldn’t stop at that. And I guess this really only occurred to me in class the next day, so instead of taking notes on how it’s possible to combine French, Russian, Irish, and Czechoslovakian speech patterns into one voice, I started writing out little responses to the objections that may come up.
“I have a boyfriend…”
“Dude, don’t worry, it’s not a date…I’m just trying to make friends and meet new people.”
“I have a class right after this.”
“Oh, that sucks. Well good luck with that. And hey, if you ever don’t have a class after this one, the offer is always open.”
“I already had lunch.”
“Oh, no big. We can just grab drinks. I hear they have great bubble tea.”
“I have plans.”
“Oh, cool, cool. Well if you don’t have plans sometime after class, the offer still stands.”
All of these actually had some sort of like, hey, I get it if you don’t want to go, it’s been a crazy week, but if you want to go some other time, please, dear God, hit me up. So walking out of class, she was a bit ahead of me, and I couldn’t stop her with an overwhelming air of casualness, and therefore there were alarms blaring in my head going—“Abandon ship! You screwed it up!” And somehow…I ignored them. I go,
“Hey!”
And she actually turns and acknowledges me. And I’m like…holy crap. I did not expect that to work. Anyway, I gave her my introduction, and she’s like,
“Oh yeah, I’ve been there. It’s awesome!” And I stop and think…okay, this is good. So I continue. Asking her out—casually.
It’s not a date! Don’t get scared!
And my next possible lines are all scrolling through my head while I’m still saying second part. In hindsight, I wonder if some of them actually came out of my mouth and profoundly confused her in regards to what I was trying to tell her. But what she ended up saying in response was something I didn’t even consider—something I don’t think I was even able to consider being her response.
“Yeah, sure!”
It stopped me in my tracks. I was just like…uh…unrecognized response…****! But I got it together, and we walked up there and exchanged formalities. And as it turned out by the end of the not-date, she was the most perfect human being I’d ever met. Half of me went on that outing to prove that she wasn’t worth pursuing, and that she was all looks, and I was wrong in all my stupid “love at first sight” judgements. But no, she was…flawless. I guess therein was the issue. Who was I to even consider dating someone like her. I wasn’t even supposed to be dating—I’d made that promise the previous year. But something about her was…captivating. We all had our flaws, but it seemed like she didn’t. Then again, that’s hardly the thing you can find out on a first not-date. So, maybe there was something I missed. There had to be. So I’d keep not-dating her until I found out what it was.
That was the plan anyway. Turned out, she ended up dropping the class we shared. We never spoke again. Although I did see her, I couldn’t find a way to talk to her. So, yeah, not exactly the happy ending you were expecting, right? Half of me wishes it hadn’t ended like that…that she’d stayed, and I’d remain mesmerized by her beauty and the impossible warmth of her heart. But the other half is able to stand back, willing to accept that the perfection of that first not-date was the best way to end things. It wouldn’t be long before we found the flaws in one another, struggling against the impossibility of a relationship that wouldn’t work, still entranced by the possibility of a perfect future perpetrated by “love at first sight”. Our interactions would become stagnant, tiptoeing over the cracking glass of the illusion that this was meant to be. This way, she could live on as the goddess I believed she was, and I could live on in her mind as whatever better version of myself she perceived me to be.
So no…no storybook ending here. At least, not with her. After resigning myself to stop seeking out relationships, I found myself captivated by a pair of eyes possessed by the ocean, coupled with a demeanor as secretive as the depths of the sea. And before you ask, no, it wasn’t love at first sight…
So I guess that’s a good sign, isn’t it?
