And people make you nervous
You'd think the world was ending
And everybody's features
Have somehow started blending
People are just people
They shouldn't make you nervous
And if you kiss somebody
Then both of you'll get practice
Two A.M. and I'm waiting for the subway at Times Square. You wouldn't think much could look radiant in the jaundiced yellow light of the subway station, but there it was, radiance, standing right next to me. I hadn't noticed it at first. It wasn't until I looked away from the empty subway tunnel, up and to my left, that I saw him.
A sort of stillness curled around the man. As much as stillness can curl. He looked over at me, and held eye contact for slightly longer than one normally would, quite the feat considering that my jaw must have been slack somewhere around my collar-bone. There was no smile on his lips, and it might have been wishful thinking, but I thought I saw it in his eyes. Tyra would have applauded him.
While it's always refreshing to encounter kindred souls not subscribing to the baking-bulb aesthetic, this man held alabaster the way that few can. It was something about the smoothness of his cheeks, his cliff-like cheekbones, impressive jawline, or dark brown hair. Or the culmination of all those elements. No, even more so, it was surely the eyes like none I had seen. Blue, deep navy blue, without hint of gray. I felt sure they were some scientific anomaly, with not quite black hole gravity, but at least that of Jupiter.
We boarded the train, and, much disgruntled, were forced to sit with a very large man between us. I'm not sure how many times we locked eyes in the space of the twenty minute ride. Many. Exacerbating the effect was the fact that the train was silent. Yet crowded. Everyone else seemed to be in a slumberlike stupor. Except for mystery man and myself.
At one point, about two thirds through the trip, I started defending my resignation to remain strangers. "Why should it have to be anything more?" I asked myself. "The event can be perfectly complete, beautiful, and fulfilling ending in silence." As we reached my stop I realized how fully I was lying to myself.
I tested it one last time. I made eye contact with him, smiled what I hoped was an adorable yet seductive smile. Held eye contact for a bit longer. I stood up early and curled my fingers around the support pole so my departure wouldn't come as a surprise. Difficult as it was, I held my eyes out the window until the train stopped, at which point I lowered them to his. I thought I offered a subtle encouraging nod. It might have been too subtle. Regardless, he didn't follow me as I had hoped. I walked home quickly, eager to find a wall to punch. Angered, and slightly drunk, I wasn't so much as to waste my hand on some near-frozen object.
Late as it was, I stayed up for another hour. No matter how hard I searched I couldn't find him online. Wasn't that what the internet was made for? There were only three more stops on the line, so I guessed his zip with what must have been decent accuracy. No luck.
Cause people are just people
People are just people
People are just people like you
I don't consider myself shy. Yet still the squashing of any shyness is what I'm making my belated New Years Resolution. Never again will I allow that situation to happen. It would have been simple to ask him to go get a cup of coffee with me. Or ask for his number. But I didn't.