a thought short story by Makayla Baker
Dorothy Parker calls it "Unfortunate Coincidence." I call it "crap out of luck." The wondering what goes on in a man's mind or when a man wonders about a woman's mind. Curiosity is too big of a word to cover it.
The constant mystery lies in our minds because of this nameless epidemic. Is he thinking of me? Why would she even think that? Is it just miscommunication? Or is it too much communication?
I met this boy once, and since he's a real guy, I'm changing his name to Howard, even though he knows who he is.
It wasn't love at first sight, heck no, I never go for that. It was more like "here, you guys dance together." Okay? And then it began.
"Aren't they so cute together?"
That's the other epidemic. I never really like a guy immediately unless he's Johnny Depp's look-alike (in which I would probably fall on my knees and automatically ask for his hand in marriage), but then someone says something.
"Do you like him?"
"You're such a cute couple!"
"You mean, you're not together?"
"Where did you bag such a hunk?"
That's when the butterfly effect (not the movie) happens. That's when the "crap out of luck" begins.
"Does he like me?"
"Why is he with her? She's not attractive at all!"
"Why isn't he talking to me?"
It's like paranoia except people like to use an euphemism for it by calling it "puppy love." Sure, we're all guilty, so it's okay to admit it, but dude, seriously? Who came up with that phrase? Puppy love? But it's like admitting that you really don't the Beatles because, believe me, there's a lot of people that don't like the Beatles, myself included.
Back to my story, I tried to be stealthy. You know, doing the girl stuff where we ask around, steal glances once in a while, play our little cat and mouse game.
But I'm tired. I'm tired of this game. How many times have we played this game in our lives? Five, six, maybe more? We like someone, we dance around a little, we finally admit to liking each other, we date, we're happy, we're mad, we're bored, and then we're done. So begins the cycle all over again.
So, this is my story to girls and boys alike. To the boys in this world: just explain what you're thinking. Make it simple, you are all good at that. Make it sweet. To the girls in this world: don't dance around, acting like you don't know the steps. You know the steps, so tango. You have one chance, and if you get shot down, there are others because he's just not a worthy dance partner.
So, Howard, are you going to tell me what you're thinking or are you going to leave me in the dark? I know my steps. Tango with me.
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