I stood there, knees knocking. Conscious of everything, my hair, my face, my attire, everything. And as she approaches I start doubting myself. ‘Are you going to mess this up?’. ‘Are you worthy of her friendship?’. ‘Can you convince her to be just friends?’. I gnash my teeth, like some kind of frenzied beast going in for the kill. It’s not noticeable, but I’m shivering like I’m in a snowstorm. I never feel like this.
The wind blows. That should be good, since I love the wind. But that just blows the curls of her hair across her face and makes her seem even more brilliant, and I crumple. I have a joke in mind that could get us both laughing, but I can’t say it. Because the gravity of the situation won’t allow me.
Finally, in what seems like ages, she completes that slow, painstakingly beautiful approach. All of my being reaches out for her, trying to say, ‘Please be a friend.’ But my mind overrules all. The adrenaline rush is the only thing that keeps me from collapsing into a slag heap. And when she speaks with that melodic, confident voice and says, ‘Can we talk now?’ my will crumbles. I really want to say, ‘Yes! Please, let’s just be friends!’. But I don’t have that kind of courage. I mutter some kind of excuse. ‘I’m sorry, I have work.’ I run off. Not out of cowardice, but simply because I don’t want to compromise things further.
The next day, she walks past me, upright, commanding. I could have asked then. But no! I don’t exactly have a will of iron. And we pass by like strangers, like what we were a in the fleeting month of June.
But then I realise my folly. I realise the delicate fragility of the situation. My eyes open to the light; I see that golden opportunity going further and further away from me. I remember a quote by Og Mandino:
Failure will never overtake me if my determination to succeed is strong enough.
And my determination becomes iron.
my heart beats faster
the lovely girl approaches
crash! i slip and fall!
Not bad for a work of fiction, non?