I can get her

I knew this the moment our eyes locked as I rushed past her. I know this now as the memories of her red red lips and her nose-piercing fan my desires. I cannot exactly remember when I lost ‘it’, that je ne sais quoi, the blind optimism and confidence that seemed to assert itself from the unconscious and bubble into everything I did, the carefreeness of doing things with no expectation, good or otherwise, and yet somehow I always came out on top. With adulthood and the ensuing disappointments that characterize it, or rather how sharply they are brought into focus, I became more introspective and analytical, paralyzed all too often by what-ifs and maybes. But, what if it works, ‘it’ being the ubiquitous undefinable object that summarizes our ambitions? Maybe ‘it’ will. I can get it 😉 I can reach out and touch her and she could reach back and touch me. I can get her. I know this.


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