We locked gazes a couple weeks ago… and I felt something. I was the one near the benches with extinction for eyes and hair the color of Never. (My hair dresser insists it’s Strawberry Before, but she’s just trying to flatter me.)
To be honest, I feel totally ridiculous writing one of these. I always used to think, “Who would ACTUALLY fill out one of those missed connections things??” Ha-ha. But then, after seeing you, I thought “What the heck? Why not just give it a try?”
Life is too short to not put yourself out there.
When I write “life is too short,” it’s just a manner of speaking, of course. Because, like, TIME for me is a flat rhombus and eternity folds itself into each moment like the wings of a thousand-winged albatross in the moment between flight and stasis where both states are simultaneously true and therefore aren’t true.
God, I’m rambling again!
Anyway, we were both waiting for the G train. (Isn’t it the worst!?)
And the platform was so hot and you’d been waiting for nearly 45 minutes, sweating through your shirt. Your phone was out of batteries so you couldn’t check if there were any delays. Oh and I remember your eyes were bloodshot from work stress and the bone-deep malaise that comes over you when you realize that the life you dreamed of will never be yours. Also you had swamp-ass.
And, well, I caught you staring into me.
I couldn’t believe it!
I noticed you right away, of course. But I didn’t want to be awkward. Trust me, I can be SO awkward (if we ever go out ask me about my first boyfriend Friedrich and the horse — I’m SUCH a putz). So, yeah, I tried not to look at you too much.
But you were staring RIGHT into me for what felt like a REALLY LONG time… so, after a while, I finally worked up the courage to stare back into you.
I might be totally wrong… but I thought we had a connection. Or, I dunno, like a moment or something. Maybe it’s just me. God, you probably don’t even remember what I look like.
Okay, a little bit about me:
I am the shadow under the bed.
I am the lusterless glaze in the eye of the last dead dinosaur.
I am the .00000003 seconds it took for the gunpowder in John Wilkes Booth’s pistol to ignite.
I am the hush in the lungs of the mountain climber who lays down in the warm snow to die.
I am the dark side of the moon. I am x divided by zero. I am the eye of the cosmic storm.
I am 5 foot 4. (Okay, 5 foot 3, but I say 4. Shh!)
Anyway, enough about me. God, now I feel really silly. Look, I just wanted to say that if you see this, um, would you like to get a cold brew or something?
(But my friends call me ABYSS :-P — ABY for short)