More Prose: Over-Thinking Things

I’ll admit, I was twitterpated.  Infatuation does that to me- heightened heart rate, nervousness and aphasia.  I’d just arrived and he greeted me rather immediately.  It was pleasantly surprising.

“Hi ____!”

“Hey.”

He stepped toward me, “How are you today?”

“I’m good… had work and a rush event and now this.  You?”

His eyes met mine squarely, before he looked down, “I’m alright…”

I cocked my head to the side, “Just alright?”

He lowered his voice and moved closer, “I just had to deal with a situation…”

“Like… work?”

“No…”  He proceeded to tell me about it, talking into my ear.  I felt a bit disconcerted by the proximity, but it made sense.  We were, after all, surrounded by a crowd of about 60 people.  I’ll admit, in retrospect, I don’t remember what he said.  I was distracted by the depth of his eyes, the lessening space between us and the timbre of his voice.

The eyes always get me.  Someone said that the eyes are the window to the soul.  I don’t know about that, but they tell me an awful lot more about a person than say… a Facebook profile.  I’m not the most introspective person, but learning more about others is utterly fascinating.

When he finished talking, I reassured him, saying that I was certain that he handled it in a polite and professional manner.  His relief was palpable as he rubbed my shoulder, “Thank you.  I needed to hear that.”

Maybe I’m over-thinking this, as usual, but he never touches me.  It made me think about how maybe the way I carry and present myself is different.  Perhaps I’m more approachable.  Or perhaps something has changed?  Or maybe I’m just more observant because I now have a vested interest?

It triggered a memory from a few days before when he invaded my personal and social space.  I was leaning against a wall, talking to someone and he came next to me, and leaned also, interjecting into the conversation.

I am over thinking things!

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