I don’t want to alarm you, but I think I’m in love.
Well, at least en route to love–I mean, we haven’t officially had a conversation really, or even, um, met beyond him handing me my daily London Fog but there’s been some pretty intense eye contact & he even smiled at me once.
So things are moving along nicely.
He’s got the whole Ryan Gosling aesthetic going on–not like The Notebook-Ryan Gosling & not quite Crazy Stupid Love-Ryan Gosling, but kind of like a happy medium between the two.
I dig it–a lot.
He’s got these beautiful blue eyes (turns out I’m a sucker for a set of bright baby blues). They’re round & clear & honest–like two cerulean pebbles set into his perfect porcelain face–& they exude this shyness-confidence combo that I just cannot get enough of. He has an almost-comfortable aura–like a performing artist who ambles around aimlessly all day before finally coming alive on stage.
He’s cool, but he doesn’t know he’s cool… He’s a complete babe, but has no idea… He’s a clueless sort of cute, you know?
I know, I know. I sound like a crazy person–pining over a strange barista. & I know what you’re probably thinking: if I like this guy so much, why don’t I just talk to him? It can’t be that hard to initiate a little one-on-one verbal contact with a dude that I see pretty much every day. & you’d be right–kind of.
It would be easy, but just because something’s easy doesn’t mean you should do it. Why do I need to complicate a simple, pleasurable, everyday interaction with a conversation that, 9 times out of 10, won’t go the way I want it to? I don’t want to know every single thing about this guy–I don’t need to. Every once in a while it’s nice to just let your imagination run rampant… to fill in the blanks how ever you want.
I’m not actually in love with this guy–I’m not completely delusional. But it gives me something to look forward to every day, &, for a busy single girl, sometimes that’s more than enough.