We all have them—boys, girls, I don’t care. Each and every one of us has fallen into a deep, passionate, heartbreaking love with a complete stranger. I’m not going to try and explain why or how this happens, but I do plan on complaining about it.
It sucks. It is literally the worst thing in the entire world. Why is it that we can see someone for a split second and immediately imagine a lifetime of happiness with them? I mean, who hasn’t given names to the six children they had with the hot guy from Starbucks?
Do you know what I mean? I can’t be the only one who’s been there. Just last night I was driving through campus, and I stopped. I literally stopped the car to check someone out. I kid you not—a car full of my friends—and without thinking, I stopped in the middle of the road to see if the guy on the sidewalk was the kid I saw in the gym the day before (my gym boyfriend). Are you getting this? I delayed our trip to Applebee’s by an entire minute because I wanted to get a better look at a hot guy! Unfortunately, it wasn’t him, and out loud I went, “Oh, I thought it was my boyfriend,” and mind you, I don’t have a boyfriend, so I proceeded to drive away sad and solemn.
Sometimes it’s the man I saw for a second on the subway, or a hottie behind me in the Chipotle line (I’m noticing a correlation between my want for hot guys and my want for food), but why does this happen?
I’m mad. I thought when I started writing this article, “Oh, this will be a cute, little, funny bit!” No! No, it's not! This is real life, people! Apparently there’s someone out there for all of us, so why can’t it be the “jawline chiseled by God Thor-lookalike” at Dunkin Donuts? I’m single, I have been single, and unless someone takes one for the team, I will probably continue to be single for the foreseeable future. I would love to say that I practice what I preach, but alas…
The question I ask is why can’t we talk to these masterpieces of human perfection? I know they’re all 10s, and most of us are a solid six on a good day, but really, what’s stopping us?
Does anyone ever actually end up with someone they meet while buying an overpriced cup of coffee on a Friday afternoon? (I ask as I stare at the Zac Efron/Dave Franco compilation waiting for his drink right now).
Is it that most of us are too afraid to approach strangers? Are we scared of rejection? What would it take for us to push ourselves to actually say hello? I wish I had the answers.
Now maybe I’m feeling lonely and sexually frustrated because I’m listening to Broadway love ballads, which is a terrible idea anyway, and waiting for the guy I like to text me back, but writing about love at first sight isn’t helping my case.
How is it possible to be so in love with someone you don’t know? It’s hard to explain exactly, but I can’t help but think that one of these days either I or the person I’m fawning over will be brave enough to speak up and express an interest in learning the other person’s name. And if not, well then there goes “Mr. Six Foot Tall with scruff and blue eyes sharp enough to pierce your soul” walking out of Chik-fil-A with only enough to feed one lonely heart.
The next time you see the man you want to father your children, or the woman that makes you blind to every other girl in the world, say hi! If you like someone, speak up. I don’t care who’s around, who doesn't like you, who doesn’t like them, whatever! Say something! How many storybook romances do you think go undiscovered because nobody has balls big enough to introduce themselves—probably none, but you get what I’m going for, right?
Be brave, people! Lace up those boot straps and take the world by storm.
And to the sex-god who just sat down next to me in the coffee shop...how you doin'?
