I've been watching her for weeks. I'm not stalking her, though. I'm checking her out, from a distance, without her knowing. I'm secretly analyzing her every move, her every mannerism, her every action, her every word. Could she be the one, finally, the one for whom I've been waiting?
I recall the very first time I saw her and the unusually kind gesture she made towards me. It was such an extraordinary thing for a woman to do towards a man she didn't know. I am impressed. Could it have been a sign to me that she was the one?
I've never seen a woman do something like that before towards a strange man. I ask myself, "Would've she done that for just any man, or woman, or did she do it especially for me?" Either way, in my opinion, it set her apart from most other people. Most people wouldn't have done what she did.It proved to me that she was special.
I mean her no harm. It's not that I'm stalking her. She lives in the same complex as me. I see her all day long going about her business.I watch her as I go about mine... I'm interested in her, that's all. I'm trying to figure her out.Who is she? What's she really about?
Is she single, I wonder? I believe she is. I've never seen her with a man, at least not in a romantic way. I did see her with a much younger man one day, but I'm almost certain it was her son.
I have noticed that she is friendly, with everyone she meets, male and female alike. I've also noticed that she's the touchy, freely type. She likes to hug people and touch them when she's talking to them.It seems innocent enough.It appears that she's just an honestly nice, caring person.I like that.
I'm confident she likes me too. I can tell because every time she see me come home from work she makes sure I see her, and she gives me a big smile and a wave from wherever she happens to be standing. That's a good sign, isn't it? Why else would she bother to draw my attention? She only met me that one time for one brief moment. She doesn't know me. She doesn't even know my name.
So far, according to all I've seen and heard of her, she seems almost flawless. Maybe that's what I want to see in her. Maybe I'm just becoming desperate. Maybe I've been alone for too long.
She's not, physically, exactly what I would've ordered in,the one. Don't get me wrong. She's not a bad looking woman, at all. She's just a little older than I would've ordered. Her teeth aren't as perfect as I might have wish, but otherwise she's really quite attractive. She has a find nice body, for any woman. She appears to be very physically fit. Obviously, she keeps herself in good shape. She must exercise and eat a healthy diet.
That doesn't seem to matter.It's her special gift I noticed and attracts me to her most. She has the heart of a servant and that's what makes her beautiful to me.
In a dozen different ways, I watched her do little tasks for people, which most other people wouldn't notice. For example, when she gets up from the table after eating, she offers to take all the dirty plates to the kitchen along with her own. Again, this is for people she doesn't even know. It's just common nature for her to do things like this.
Other times I've heard others ask her, if they could have or borrow this or that, which she has and they need. She cheerfully says, "Sure! Here, take two so you'll have one for later." That's just the way she is.
She compliments everybody. She's always nice,and cheerful, and optimistic about everything. Still, there's something holding me back from pursuing her. Maybe I've been alone for so long that I've just gotten use to it. Maybe I'm afraid of getting close to anyone again.
What if I followed up and it turn out wrong, she wasn't the one. What would I do; I'd be heartbroken. What if it turned out she was mentally ill: kind to strangers, horrible to those who love her. She is too good, too ideal; is there something I'm not seeing.
Maybe she abuses substances.It doesn't show on her face, or in her body, but maybe she does. Maybe she's a drug addict. Maybe she'sa sex addict or a prostitute or who knows what.
I don't know. I'm probably just better off playing it safe and keeping to myself until I'm sure. I can't afford to become involved with another crazy, messed up,person. I've enough problems of my own to deal with than to try to save another lost soul. I can't go through that again. I'm better off just playing it safe for now.
I'm tired of being alone! Being alone sucks! I wish she were the one. It would be so nice to share my life with my one, true soul mate. I would be so much happier than I am now. I'm sure she's not, the one. She can't be.The timing isn't right. As much as I'd love to meet her right now, I'm not ready to meet her just yet; soon, but not now.
I guess I'll keep waiting and watching.I know she'll show up when the time is right for both her and I. I know she's out there somewhere,longing to meet me as much as I'm longing to meet her. I pray every night that she will come into my life soon and I'm sure she will.When I least expect her, there she'll be, and I'll know, that I know, that I know, that she's, the one. I'll just know it, and she'll know it to. It will be love at first sight.
Unfortunately, this one worries me for some reason. I don't know why, she just does.Better safe than sorry, I say, at least for now.
Still, I can't forget the first time I saw her. We were both waiting in line to receive our dinner plate. The server handed both of us our meals at the same time. Our hands were full and we were unable to carry any more without first sitting our plates down. We had yet to get our beverages, which were contained in one of those large, five gallon,orange beverage coolers; the ones construction workers use on job sites. In order to dispense the fluid into a cup, from the container, one must sit their plate down and use both hands. You need one hand to hold the cup, while the other hand compresses the flow nozzle, which allows the beverage to flow.
I was ahead of her inline and arrived at the beverage container a split second before she did. Being the person, I am, and seeing that her hands were full with heavy plates, I motioned for her to go ahead of me and get her drink first. She looked at me, and smiled, seemingly surprised at my mannerism, and politely thanked me for letting her go first. She sat her plate down on the table next to the cooler, and took two cups out of the cup dispenser. I figured she must have been very thirsty. She filled the first cup with crushed Ice, and then with Iced tea, and then she turned around and handed it to me. "This is for you, Sir," she said. "May I get you a slice of lemon, or some sugar to go with it?"
M Adam Roberts lives and writes from Clearwater, Florida.
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