Before the winter started, over the course of about three months, I kept seeing this girl. Seeing as in noticing her with my eyes.
At my work, we occasionally go to the grocery store next store to pick up snacks and drinks. One day I noticed this girl.
She was pretty. Possibly the maximum amount of pretty someone like me deserves. However, something was off. She was awkward. She was a little weird. Perfect for me, really.
The first things you'd notice about her were her backpack and her unkempt hair. She must have been the prettiest girl with bad hair I've ever seen. Also her backpack was a bit rugged.
The first day that I saw her, I was worried that she might be homeless. Or that she might be running away from home. She was in the grocery store eating an ice cream cone. Just standing around. She actually randomly said hi to me on the first day, too, while I was in line behind her and no one else was around. And when she left, she walked. She just started walking towards Main Street and the other side of town. She looked to be about 19 years old. I thought about that girl all day.
And then I saw her again. She walked, from apparently a long distance, to the store, and then headed out even further away from her starting point. She mostly got ice cream cones, I think.
Every time I saw her, I desperately wanted to approach her. On the surface, I was worried for her. But I'd be lying if I said that I didn't have fantasies about taking care of and sheltering a homeless qt girlfriend.
I saw her about a dozen times after that. Each time, wanting to say something, looking for an opportunity to get away from my coworkers, and then missing my chance. She even came into my workplace a couple of times, but she left quickly left without buying anything and probably without noticing me both times.
She probably wasn't homeless. She didn't look unhealthy, and she had nice jeans. But I couldn't get the homeless thing out of my head.
And now the finale: the first and last time I ever had a conversation with this mysterious woman. She came into my store for the third time, and at just the right time when I wasn't busy. I'd been continually frustrated at myself for not taking the chance to talk to her, and so when I had that great opportunity, I took it.
"Can I ask you a question?"
"Sure."
"What's your name?"
She responded relatively positively.
And then I told her that I worried she was homeless, seeing her walk around town. What a terrible thing to say.
Our short conversation ended quickly, and shortly after I realized what I said. I wanted to go talk to her again before she left, and tell her that I wanted to talk to her because she was pretty, above all else. But I didn't.
I haven't seen her since.
At my work, we occasionally go to the grocery store next store to pick up snacks and drinks. One day I noticed this girl.
She was pretty. Possibly the maximum amount of pretty someone like me deserves. However, something was off. She was awkward. She was a little weird. Perfect for me, really.
The first things you'd notice about her were her backpack and her unkempt hair. She must have been the prettiest girl with bad hair I've ever seen. Also her backpack was a bit rugged.
The first day that I saw her, I was worried that she might be homeless. Or that she might be running away from home. She was in the grocery store eating an ice cream cone. Just standing around. She actually randomly said hi to me on the first day, too, while I was in line behind her and no one else was around. And when she left, she walked. She just started walking towards Main Street and the other side of town. She looked to be about 19 years old. I thought about that girl all day.
And then I saw her again. She walked, from apparently a long distance, to the store, and then headed out even further away from her starting point. She mostly got ice cream cones, I think.
Every time I saw her, I desperately wanted to approach her. On the surface, I was worried for her. But I'd be lying if I said that I didn't have fantasies about taking care of and sheltering a homeless qt girlfriend.
I saw her about a dozen times after that. Each time, wanting to say something, looking for an opportunity to get away from my coworkers, and then missing my chance. She even came into my workplace a couple of times, but she left quickly left without buying anything and probably without noticing me both times.
She probably wasn't homeless. She didn't look unhealthy, and she had nice jeans. But I couldn't get the homeless thing out of my head.
And now the finale: the first and last time I ever had a conversation with this mysterious woman. She came into my store for the third time, and at just the right time when I wasn't busy. I'd been continually frustrated at myself for not taking the chance to talk to her, and so when I had that great opportunity, I took it.
"Can I ask you a question?"
"Sure."
"What's your name?"
She responded relatively positively.
And then I told her that I worried she was homeless, seeing her walk around town. What a terrible thing to say.
Our short conversation ended quickly, and shortly after I realized what I said. I wanted to go talk to her again before she left, and tell her that I wanted to talk to her because she was pretty, above all else. But I didn't.
I haven't seen her since.
