the second story...
Week 2 - Union of Minds
It was getting quite annoying, annoyance bordering on vexingly irritating. While some girls might relish this sort of attention, I saw it more as an intrusion of my private space. Now, the occasionally intrusion has evolved into almost an invasion. And he isn’t even my boyfriend, yet.
I was confused, and that is putting it quite mildly. Being torn was more apt a description. My heart and my head had both decided, unfortunately, it seemed that they had decided on different paths. Why was it so difficult? There had to be an easier solution, a little time and a little thought would do. Maybe a little prayer.
The romantic in me wanted to believe that he is trying to woo me, albeit in his own little subtle methods. However, the rational part of me could never believe that these subtle hints that he is dropping are anything substantial. How can men claim that women are never explicit? Why can’t men be more explicit?
*
It was getting quite annoying, annoyance bordering on vexingly irritating. While some guys might relish the thrill of the chase, I saw it more as an intrusion into someone else’s personal space. She wasn’t even my girlfriend yet, these intrusions would prove unwise in the long run.
I was confused, and that is putting it quite mildly. Being torn was more apt a description. My heart and my head had both decided, unfortunately, it seemed that they had decided on different paths. Why was it so difficult? There had to be an easier solution, a little time and a little thought would do. Maybe a little prayer.
The desire to woo was strong, but to send the wrong signals have proven the downfall of many a relationship. The rational me had made the decision to start with the subtle hints that girls seem more inclined to use themselves. However, the romantic in me had started planning the extravagant candlelit dinners that would not be easily forgotten. How can men be explicit when being so would sooner thrust the relationship into a corner?
*
Perhaps he would call. I secretly enjoyed our conversations, though often we end up bickering. Bickering like little children. There was an old saying that bickering adds spice to a relationship, it keeps the relationship fresh. I can hardly imagine agreeing and being agreeable all the time, where is the fun in that?
I get the feeling that he secretly enjoys these hostile banters as well. Though, I must admit that his male ego has more than once been bruised by my whimsical self declared victory. He was sweet in the way that he just let me claim victory.
Yes, perhaps he might call.
*
Perhaps I should call her. I don’t want to admit that I enjoy our banter, which more often than not, ends up in a debate of sorts. It brings to mind an old saying that bickering adds spice to a relationship, it keeps the relationship fresh. I can hardly imagine her agreeing and being agreeable all the time, where is the fun in that?
I gathered that she enjoys these exchanges more than I ever would. Why I subject myself to these self-esteem damning conversations I would never really know. Perhaps, the enjoyment that I gather from these conversations have more than compensated for my deflated self-esteem.
Yes, why not? Perhaps I will call her.
*
I wonder what he is doing. Why is he not calling?
*
I wonder what she is doing. Is she waiting?
It was getting quite annoying, annoyance bordering on vexingly irritating. While some girls might relish this sort of attention, I saw it more as an intrusion of my private space. Now, the occasionally intrusion has evolved into almost an invasion. And he isn’t even my boyfriend, yet.
I was confused, and that is putting it quite mildly. Being torn was more apt a description. My heart and my head had both decided, unfortunately, it seemed that they had decided on different paths. Why was it so difficult? There had to be an easier solution, a little time and a little thought would do. Maybe a little prayer.
The romantic in me wanted to believe that he is trying to woo me, albeit in his own little subtle methods. However, the rational part of me could never believe that these subtle hints that he is dropping are anything substantial. How can men claim that women are never explicit? Why can’t men be more explicit?
*
It was getting quite annoying, annoyance bordering on vexingly irritating. While some guys might relish the thrill of the chase, I saw it more as an intrusion into someone else’s personal space. She wasn’t even my girlfriend yet, these intrusions would prove unwise in the long run.
I was confused, and that is putting it quite mildly. Being torn was more apt a description. My heart and my head had both decided, unfortunately, it seemed that they had decided on different paths. Why was it so difficult? There had to be an easier solution, a little time and a little thought would do. Maybe a little prayer.
The desire to woo was strong, but to send the wrong signals have proven the downfall of many a relationship. The rational me had made the decision to start with the subtle hints that girls seem more inclined to use themselves. However, the romantic in me had started planning the extravagant candlelit dinners that would not be easily forgotten. How can men be explicit when being so would sooner thrust the relationship into a corner?
*
Perhaps he would call. I secretly enjoyed our conversations, though often we end up bickering. Bickering like little children. There was an old saying that bickering adds spice to a relationship, it keeps the relationship fresh. I can hardly imagine agreeing and being agreeable all the time, where is the fun in that?
I get the feeling that he secretly enjoys these hostile banters as well. Though, I must admit that his male ego has more than once been bruised by my whimsical self declared victory. He was sweet in the way that he just let me claim victory.
Yes, perhaps he might call.
*
Perhaps I should call her. I don’t want to admit that I enjoy our banter, which more often than not, ends up in a debate of sorts. It brings to mind an old saying that bickering adds spice to a relationship, it keeps the relationship fresh. I can hardly imagine her agreeing and being agreeable all the time, where is the fun in that?
I gathered that she enjoys these exchanges more than I ever would. Why I subject myself to these self-esteem damning conversations I would never really know. Perhaps, the enjoyment that I gather from these conversations have more than compensated for my deflated self-esteem.
Yes, why not? Perhaps I will call her.
*
I wonder what he is doing. Why is he not calling?
*
I wonder what she is doing. Is she waiting?
Labels: written in prose
posted by alvin_c at 10:59 pm
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