What is it…

We stood there in awkward silence, until I, against my better judgment, decided to break the ice. I said hi, but was not courageous enough –I couldn’t look you in the eye.

I never knew I could be monosyllabic.

So to save face, and to ignore whatever effect your presence had on me, I pretended to be engrossed in my attempt to search for nothing inside my bag. I was quite sure the search would be in vain, since nothing is quite difficult to find.

You didn’t stare. I’m quite sure you didn’t.

But you were so laidback –closing the gap between your back and the wall, resting your head on the cold surface, while tilting it a bit my way.

I wanna know what you were thinking during those few seconds –was it even a minute –of awkwardness. Were you examining how my hair flew in all directions or the dark circles around my eyes? Were you wondering what thing could be so important I couldn’t wait for the time I step out, find a sturdy surface and rummage for what I was –or wasn’t– looking for?

Were you studying your reflection or pretending to study your reflection?

Why didn’t you bother say hi? Maybe you’re not just as friendly as I want you to be. Or let’s face it, you’re just not interested? Maybe I have this I-don’t-talk-to-strangers vibe?¬†Oh, I’m sorry, but you are no stranger. We’ve been introduced, quite a number of times, if my crappy memory serves me right.

I swear the next time this happens and you decide to pretend I’m a stranger again —I’d face you, look you in the eye, and ask —“what is it about….?” Okay, I couldn’t finish that. And dear universe, I’m kidding.


Still crazy at 23,

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