Conversations We Could Have Had

To tell this story, I have to begin at the beginning, or the ending wouldn't make a lot of sense. Right? So, to start at the beginning, I have to tell you I've never been on a date. Any date at all. I once thought that one time with my mom's boyfriend's son counted, but as I've grown older, and as the boy and his dad went somewhere else halfway through our "date," I'd say that it really doesn't count. I also need to tell you that, although it may be obvious from my never having been on a date, I've never had a boyfriend. This is because of a lot of reasons, or maybe just one, which I have no idea. I think you could better tell me why I've never had a boyfriend than I could. Is it because I'm painfully shy when it comes to interacting or otherwise speaking with a member of the opposite sex? Maybe it's because, no matter how pimpled and red my face becomes, or how deep and dark the bags under my eyes get, I refuse to wear makeup because I value comfort before looks, and makeup is the most irritating thing on the planet to a girl who was never taught how to use it. Or do you think, as I do, that I've never had a boyfriend because the guys I happen to like never just wake up and realize I'm perfect for them and that they need to ask to be my boyfriend, like, now? As soon as possible never meant as much as it does when the thought of asking me out crosses the mind of some adorable, intelligent, and kind (but mostly adorable) guy. You agree? I thought so.

So there's the beginning. Well, most of it anyway. The rest of the beginning takes place in the little known shop, XXI Forever. While shopping with family one weekend I noticed the cutest tank top hanging on a rack nearby. But since we weren't really shopping for me and my sisters kept dragging me away to help them find their own cutest clothing items, I never got to try it on or anything. So, one day after work I dropped by to see if it was still there. It wasn't, but I needed to get a new skirt as well, so I started shopping. (Side note: OH MY GOSH! I just realized: I had a dream just like this!) Suddenly, I saw such a cute boy, putting away clothes. I tried to act nonchalant, flipping through the abundance of shirts, while simultaneously keeping an eye out for a nice skirt and another on the boy candy currently hanging up a dress. After a couple of trips to the dressing room, I decided I was going to talk to him. I'd tried on a pretty, sheer top earlier, but put it back. So I walked up to him.

"Excuse me?"

Without turning around, "Yes?"

"I was wondering if you could help me find a shirt, if I described it to you." Of course, I knew how fruitless that was. But I was hoping.

He gave me a look, like: "Really? And how am I supposed to do that?"

"Um, okay. Do you remember where you got it?"

I never really understood what a "sheepish" look was. I always thought it seemed kind of...bestial...in a way, although I never thought it had anything to do with sex. But now I know. "No. I thought I'd gotten it from around here," I waved my arm around me to indicate the area we were in, "but I've looked through all of it, and I can't find it."

My gaze fell on a shirt that almost resembled it and I pulled it out to show him. "It's sort of like this, only with a higher waistband, and it fell more straight and fitted."

He walked past me and said, "Well, if it's like this, then it would be over here." He gestured around him like I had, and I knew he wasn't going to be of much help. He was too cute. Maybe it's my low expectations that a cute boy will want anything to do with me that has lead to my current state of unboyfriendity.

I walked to where he was and started shuffling through the clothing half-heartedly, then threw him a pleading look. He'd walked back to the cart he'd been standing at earlier.

"If you could show it to me, I could tell you where it is." He shrugged.

I rolled my eyes internally. 'If I could show it to you, I wouldn't need your help, now, would I?' I thought.

Out loud, I said, "Okay. Thanks."

Defeated and already forgotten, I turned to face the racks again, vowing never to ask for help from a salesperson again. Not only did I try talking to a guy, which never came to fruition, but I'd already spent almost twenty minutes looking for this stupid shirt that I wasn't even sure was worth it. But I kept looking. When I finally found it (on the other side of the store), I decided I would give him another chance. After checking out, I purposefully walked through the section he was working in, even though the entrance was the other way, just to see if he would say anything more about the shirt.

"Did you find it?"

Startled, I turned around to face him. "Yeah."

He laughed. "Well, I bet if you showed me the shirt, I could tell you where you found it." There was a friendly, inquiring expression on his face.

I took the shirt out of my bag (my black bag, even though I'd always seen other girls walking around with big, bright yellow bags. I mean, come on, what does one have to do to get a darn yellow bag??) and held it out to him. When he took it from me, his fingers grazed the top of my hand, sending little shocks through my system as if saying, "He was here! He was here!" He unfolded the shirt and smiled down at it.

He pointed up to the part of the store where I'd found the shirt. "It was over there, wasn't it?"

I smiled shyly. "It was." Then, feeling brave, I added, "Nowhere near where you said it would be," with a teasing grin.

He laughed again (such a glorious noise! If I'd had to live without ever hearing the sound of his laughter, I would have lived a very sad life, indeed.) and slipped the shirt back into my bag. When he looked back down at me, he held my gaze for a few seconds. The longest few seconds in my relatively short life. I swear, if the girl standing a few feet away from us hadn't moved more than a few inches, I wouldn't have know how long we were standing there, looking into each others' eyes like we were smack dab in the middle of the lamest romantic comedy.

So, there's the beginning of a new story I've been thinking about. Some of it is true. Some of it is not. Can you guess which parts are true? Actually, don't, I'm not sure I want to know what you guys really think of me. Tell me what you think 1) about the direction of the story, 2) where you think the direction is heading, and 3) about the writing. And, for your video today, I'll leave you with a little (or a lot) love.