Immediately after I sent the message, I panicked as anyone else would do in a soap-opera life filled with the same cliches. I wished to apologize for bothering her with the message; looking back, it didn’t contain anything that should really startle anyone, but at the time I felt that my secrets would scare her away like everyone else I trusted but didn’t get to know.

Yes, this has happened before. I’m an expert at self-sabotauge. If I find something good, it must not be for me. Or, I won’t want to hurt someone with my moods. So, I spent most of the next week at Stardust hoping to see her (read: stalking). I can’t quite remember, if I saw her, but I know I didn’t say anything. It’s as if every time I look into her smiling eyes my heart gets ripped from me again. Yes, I am that shallow. My mouth doesn’t cooperated with my whims, and the most I can get out is a ‘how are you’ with a mumbled answer when she asks me how I am.

A few more sleepless nights went by before I finally got some rest. I can’t say I’ve really got a whole night’s sleep since then. I don’t know whether this is due to the sound-effects of life or my heart. At the next farmer’s market, I saw her again. My lips listened for once, and I told her to disregard my message. The response held the fact that she hadn’t read the message. I suppose, that was a good thing. I also told her not to do so. That was the extent of our conversation besides a quick how are you while she was busy setting up some of the stands.

I sat around (stalked some more), hoping I’d get to talk to her. I didn’t, because I have this notion that I am not good enough for anyone. I know this is nonsense, but my track record hasn’t really been all that great in friendship, romance, or job recruitment. Part of my problem is just that; since I think I’m not good enough, I’m not good enough. I have never introduced myself to Emily; I’m not even sure, if she knows my name. We have mingled a bit for the past four months, but it’s hard enough for me to open my mouth. She does wave and smile sometimes, and other times it’s as if she disregards my presence. I wish it was as easy as just hearing she doesn’t want anything to do with me.

So, I went to the poetry slam and didn’t see her. She doesn’t go to the slams (I guess, really don’t either.), but she hangs out at Stardust a lot in general. I think, I only go to them with the hopes of ‘bumping into her’ (yeah, more stalking. Jesus, I really am Edward Cullen.). I guess, that’s why I went there to write as well. Though, it does help a lot to sit somewhere other than where you can waste a million hours on the internet.

The next Wednesday, I don’t remember speaking to her at all, maybe a hi or a hello. I noticed everyone freaking out, so I figured something happened or would soon. I knew so much as it involved her, so I figured I just didn’t know she had some relationship or something. Then, I disappeared home. The Saturday after that, they had an art show for a local artist at Bold Hype. His name is Dolla and all of his work involves graffiti. This wasn’t a stalker move; I always go to the art shows. I saw her there, but we didn’t speak and she seemed to disappear fast. Due to my paranoia, I figured it was something to do with me. When I looked out the window, it appeared to me that she was staring. I’m not sure whether it was out of disgust or something, but then our eyes turned away. Then she disappeared.