Shoulda, Woulda, Coulda

“Ah, I see you can’t get on this bus with your pass, I will wait for you until the next one.”

“Thank you.” I beam.

By thank you, I mean thank you for giving me ten minutes of your day which makes my day 100% better. Oh and incidentally, I love you and want to do things to you that my mother would be ashamed of.

No biggie.

How can seeing someone and talking to them about nothing of any great importance for ten minutes make you so unbelievably happy? This happiness rivals that of the surprise iPad my mother bought me. It’s the equivalent to the hopping-on-a-plane-to-LA feeling I had over summer.

And to him…it’s nothing? Just one conversation of many in a long boring day.

I see him in Sainsbury’s and my heart skips a beat.

I feel like a fourteen year old girl.

I may have lied when I said I loved him. For I barely know him. Yet he gets the blood running through my body, he makes my heart race and my mouth stumble on embarrassing words that I later curse myself for saying.

Four years I have known him. Except I don’t really know him. Small talk and nods of recognition are all that pass between us. But I know he is perfect for me. It’s funny because he’s not incredible looking…but we have something. I know that we do. Maybe it’s a look that lingers a second longer than it ought to or maybe it’s something real. I know he’s funny and I know he’s intelligent and I know that he is lovely. Without knowing him, I know that we would be so great together.

How is that?

I don’t know what worries him, what makes him laugh, what makes him cry…but god I want to.

I expect nothing to happen. I won’t act on an assumption and I doubt he will. Maybe he will just be one of several guys in the “shoulda woulda coulda” list. Maybe I will regret not carpe diem-ing the shit out of it. Maybe I won’t, maybe I’m being silly.

All I know is that right now, I am smiling because of one person. That one person made me feel alive. He gave me butterflies reminiscent of being a teenager. Some things never change. But as I pick my metaphorical daisy asking whether he likes me or likes me not maybe it’s time to reassess my life. Whilst feelings and emotions don’t change. Some things do. I’m hell of a lot less ballsy than I was aged fourteen!

He loves me, He loves me not...

He loves me, He loves me not…

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