He wants to talk to me.
by Kathlene Ann
To me? Apparently. Yes.
I hesitate as my mind begins to race.
Shallow though pushed into the back of my mind emerges,
“Appearance? Awful, need I subject him to the torture of forced civility towards this? ”
Yet I know in my heart he won’t mind it if he truly likes me.
Or simply respects me, but the thoughts keep coming.
“What do they think of my silence?
I wish to hide my face, but not close off my heart.”
I know my thoughts are shallow,
Yet I cannot help submitting to them.
Soon though, I force myself to accept, putting up a front,
Doing what I can with my looks.
And smiling, masking my insecurity,
Hiding my fear of rejections, all behind a smile.
I see him now, and I know he sees me.
My heart beets. Hard. Loud.
My throat dries up, closes. Shut.
My mind is blank, slow, waiting.
Then the conversation begins.
A comment, a question, both come flying at me.
What to say? What to do?
The mind reels under the burden.
A strong desire to respond intelligently and truthfully overwhelms.
I want to show my true personality, but I also want to fit his ideals.
Gears turn franticly behind a blank smile,
Which the mind forgets to maintain.
Finally I respond, but in a voice and fashion not my own.
I recognize my weakness of personality and my nervous nonsense blathering
And must laugh away the resulting anger.
We continue, talking until he must leave,
Or wants to.
I sigh, my fears and hopeful, crippling excitement fading.
But now I’ve new trials to face.
“How could I have acted that way?
Why did I show that stupidity, that commonness that so many others share? ”
Long after he is gone, thoughts of him remain.
I cannot help but wonder if he thinks of me too.
I blush, overwhelmed by hopeful joy knowing that,
At one time, he saw something special in me.
All this until a sense of unworthiness slips over me.
Then I sit and hate myself for my falsities
And assume that he too will remember me only for my baseness.
I want to be accepted for who I am.
No. I just want to be accepted.
Guilt. No one deserves to fall in love with someone’s shadow.
All feelings return to hibernation, waiting to be reawakened...
I’m sure he has already forgotten me.