There she was…
Our eyes caught each other from a great distance away. At least that’s what it felt like.
You never know, do you? Was she looking at me, noticing me the way I singled her out.
Was she thinking the same thing? “Is he staring at me? He’s kind of cute. There’s thousands of people here. I doubt he’s even paying attention.”
As the night game rolled on I couldn’t even tell you who was playing. I knew where I was. I know where the stadium was since it’s been since torn down.
I still can’t get the taste of what was to be the best nachos and cheese that has ever crossed my lips.
Besides the nachos – I still remember her.
Blondish hair with a hint of a light auburn. Curly. Not “Annie” curly. Larger ones like the size of hoop rings. They extended just past her shoulders.
Her face matched her perfectly. Nothing stood out of a place from my view.
It was like a lot of care went into making her – just right. Natural beauty which I imagined followed even every curve I could not see.
Our eyes locked again and again and again…
It was HER fault I don’t remember the game. It was HER fault I don’t remember who I was even with.
But it wasn’t HER fault that I took my balls and squeezed them between my legs – Not physically, ouch!! that would certainly sting.
It was because I didn’t know what to do. There she was nestled away eight or so people in, on bench seating with hundreds of people between us. Rows down. Concrete steps between us.
The crowd wasn’t there to cheer me on but they were their to watch me fail.
How does a guy make a great connection from just a look, and not have any way of finding out if it was real or not?
Is he expected to put her on the spot? What would he say? Something lame like, “Hey babe. I saw you checking me out…”
Or break into some movie like romantic offering to a woman who could turn out to be just a pretty face.
“When I first saw you, I got a little scared. I was afraid this game would fly by and I’d go home with only regrets. Wondering why I couldn’t bring myself to meet the most perfect face in this crowd.”
Hey… there’s a lot of noise going on. I couldn’t whisper it. I didn’t want to scream it. It would be hard enough just to weed through the people on the bench before her.
I could wait until she gets up but then that feels like I’m stalking her. It wouldn’t be natural. Or would it? Could I fake it? Lie to her and say we accidentally bumped into each other?
Ehhh she’s just a beautiful woman. Maybe I’m being drawn in by her beauty. Maybe my dick is leading this charge when all it’s really doing is making me feel like a piece of shit because apparently, if I don’t approach her, I have no balls.
Who knows. Maybe the man downstairs is sick of the lame company. The maternal twins were later found out to be just annoying.
I don’t remember the game. I remember her.
I remember failing to act. All the reasons why. How it felt helpless. Pointless.
The world again has decided it would tease me. It challenged me to be brave.
Not risk my life brave…
Just courageously bold, daring, strong, unwavering, determined, honest.
Hmmm what woman, eye contact or not, will pass up at meeting a guy who is just that un-caring of the crowd set out to cheer at his failures that he’s willing to risk rejection of any type.
Makes me wonder.
Ask a man to show courage when the outcome is clear and beneficial to others and some will step up to that challenge. Put more at stake, heighten the benefits like saving a child or a future and more will step up and give it all.
Ask a man to show courage when the outcome is not clear. Where’s no guarantee they’ll feel better. When there’s no way to tell is she is the one, kind, just a face, not responsive, doubtfully but maybe mean and very few will take that dare.
And there she went…
No risk taken. No story of courage. Nothing to tell our children and friends about. Not something that was meant to be.
Not all of us guys understand what to do in these situations. It’s the big reason why we gawk, stare, dream, and fade away at the end of the night.
For this we tend to miss something very important. (Blundering fools aside with bad breath and a failure to understand how to wash ourselves…)
It’s not WHAT we say that’s important. While we hide away in our minds thinking it all through, every step, every reason, every risk, every doubt; the most effective and it just so happens attractive act is not in the words or the outcome or a pretense to romance…
It’s the courage. Being bold and daring. Risk. Determination. An honest approach. An almost blind indifference towards the crowd with a single simple task to achieve regardless of where it goes or what happens next.
Yes. Men can use this advice but I wrote it for you. Not the girl I missed out on twenty or so years ago. Not for the face in the crowds we fall for every day.
For you, personally because I know each and every one of you at some point – caught a man’s eyes. You wondered and maybe hoped. You stared back.
You may have succumbed to the idea it was nothing. It was all in your head. You may have blamed it on yourself. Maybe it was all in YOUR head.
Maybe you feel trapped to social conformity and find it impossible to ever approach a man even when you know, without a doubt, something is definitely going on.
For you. Who only wishes one guy would be courageous and you feel because they’re not taking the risks, you must not be attractive enough.
For you. To realize and understand, to consider, how much emphasis men put on meeting you and why we fail to act.
I’m not asking you to make it easier on us. Some will. Some will ask you for clearer signals or to come to us. I won’t, at least today. 🙂