When he can’t take his eyes off of you…

One of the cutest things (at least, for me) about a man is when he can’t take his eyes off a woman. At least, in a secretive way.

I went to a block party/get-together for my undergraduate alma mater and it was more fun than I’d had in a long time. While listening/dancing to music and having drinks with my friend and sister, I kept getting this feeling. Ladies, you know what feeling I’m referring to: the electric spine-slither that tells you there are eyes on you.

So naturally, I turned to confront it and when I did, I caught him. He was good looking (possibly handsome, but my bitterness distorts physical attractiveness) and quite tall. When we made eye contact, he quickly looked away. At first, I thought it was a fluke…at least until it kept happening continuously over the course of the next two hours. Eventually, I didn’t turn to look at him and instead tried to glimpse him from the corner of my eye. It was mesmerizing to watch him watch me and wonder what could he possibly be thinking about. Usually, when I stare at men, my mind is blank. But…then again…that just might be my bitterness staging a coup on my limbic system.

A few of those times, I smiled at him and he shyly hung his head and looked away. To me, that’s 1) adorable and 2) interesting, especially when someone attractive does it.

Thankfully, we both kept our distance. In reality, that probably was just me. Despite my ruddy-brown complexion, I’m like dark chocolate. Bitter dark chocolate. The kind you find at the store with the foil partially torn off and sporting a tooth impression from the person who mistakenly thought it was milk chocolate and didn’t want it anymore. (Damn you, DW and my broken heart!).

It was for the best as I wouldn’t want to afflict @shyguy2015 with the ten pounds of crazy I carry around each day on my back in a tattered burlap sack of “get your shit together.” The downside? Guess what I’m thinking about tonight?

What if I hadn’t put up my force-field with specialized penis-blockers and testosterone deactivators? What if we’d talked, exchanged numbers, and hit it off? What if that meant he would have spent today with me? What if he’d be making me cry with laughter, right now, as we ended the day lying in bed together?

I’ve got to find a way to heal this heart. There are too many crumbs in my bed, I’m starting to use hashtags like #pizzaisbae, and I basically just fashioned a relationship out of thin air a couple sentences ago with a guy who I’ll never see again.

Damn you, DW.

-Alex

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