Dear Gym Hottie
It’s been ages since I’ve seen you and to be honest I’ve, in fact, forgotten your face. So let’s hope that you haven’t gone missing and the police doesn’t ask me to give them your description (because I’m too hopeless to even attempt to do that).
I’ve seen you about twice in my whole life, but believe me, that was enough to make me always look for you in the crowd, rather hopelessly I might add.
For me, running on the treadmill next to you on that fateful day will always be a fond memory of our non existent relationship. I cannot seem to forget how I kept staring at my own reflection in the mirror to avoid looking at you, which made me fall in love even more.
With myself, that is. Because of the perfection that is me.
And then I realized, or rather imagined, that you were stealing glances at me too, which heightened my adoration to the infinite sky.
For my own self, that is.
And then I almost broke my teeth as I skid down the treadmill because I was too preoccupied with the love fest and lost my footing as a result of it.
I still remember what attracted me to you was how tall you were. Tall enough to stand on your toes and pluck the moon from the sky if you wanted. Everything about you reminded me of the starry sky on a clear summer night: you were dark and mysterious, and immensely out of reach. And staring at you made me happy and my heart skip a beat.
So I did what any girl with a crush on a guy would do: I completely avoided you, scowled at you when you tried to smile at me, tripped on the floor a few times and even dropped my phone on someone’s foot when you were near.
You need to come back to the gym, dear Gym Dude. I miss the romance.
The Girl Who You Think Hates You But Doesn’t Really Hate You In Fact It’s The Opposite
© That Girl in the Fray, 2017. All rights reserved.