Statistics

This all occurred during my last semester in college.

In my statistics class I sat behind a woman that I was entirely infatuated with. She was beautiful and smart and nice and sweet. Enough so that all of my defenses started to collapse, and I decided to attempt to ask her out. This may not seem like a difficult thing, but to me it is beyond monumental. I do not know why such a simple and common action can be so exceptionally difficult for me, but it is. I can talk, joke, and even make women laugh without issue, but past that things become rough.

I spent the entire semester sitting one seat behind and one seat to the right of this woman. I studied how she moved, thought, interacted, and learned. She was amazing. Near the end of the semester I overheard she was holding a presentation for her other major, dance, during some national conference held at the campus. I decided to go and try to understand something she loves and then ask her out afterward. After waiting a couple weeks for the day to come I followed through with the first half of my plan. I saw her nervously, but confidently, give her presentation and then give us a several minute long example of the dance type. Even with all of my apathy and callous emotions I still think it to be one of the most beautiful sights I have beheld.

After the presentation I waited outside of the room for her. During this time a few people were talking next to me about random things. Slowly their conversation began to shift to the woman of my affection. They began to talk about how they were friends, and how she was gorgeous. Finally one of them mentioned that she had a boyfriend and then pointed down the hallway as he finally arrived. For a moment I simply stood there and thought. I knew this to be a likely possibility. I figure any woman I am attracted to in that magnitude must be engaged in some relationship. Even with this understanding it came as a shock. I slowly stood up straight, replaced my non-shaded lenses with my shades, straightened them, and walked calmly down the hallway and out of the building. I recall it being a bright, sunny, and hot day. I recall feeling nothing for many days afterward.

These type of situations stick in my mind for months. They dig into me like needles and infect any associated memory with greater darkness. Personal failures never fade easily, if ever. In certain situations, this being one of them, it hurts enough for me to blow an emotional "fuse", and I am incapable of feeling emotions until it mends. After the hole heals there is a little less of me left and a little more scar tissue.

Yet I am still here and still trying to find someone. Scar tissue and all. Often I still feel like I am still standing in the hallway and waiting for that amazing woman to emerge, but I still try. I still fail. All I need is for one attempt to succeed. Just once.