"What is flirtatiousness but an argument that life must go on and on
and on?" Kurt Vonnegut, Jailbird

When I took a position at Walmart as an Unloader, I didn't want to believe in love at first sight. So what was it that made me change my mind? I didn't seek to fall in love with her. Not that I regretted it however, there are many things in life to regret, but falling in love, no matter the outcome, should never be one of them. I thought I could reach my goals by myself and that love would only be a hindrance. I was scared of being hurt again. I feared no physical pain, but the pains of unrequited love can feel devastating. It scared me to put myself on the line, to be so vulnerable, but I didn't want to live a life directed by the fear of pain. Suddenly, I saw a place in my plans for a partner and a muse.

She was in her early twenties. Her name was Paige. I'm not sure she even paid any attention to me at all, but I noticed her. A heavenly halo of golden hair, that she always kept pulled back, crowned her face. The face which always reminded me of a Japanese anime character, if Japanese anime characters ever wore gold framed glasses. She became my existential complication.

I made eye contact with her on numerous occasions. Stealing secret and sometimes not so secret glances at her and going out of my way to go past her department. In my mind, she took notice of me and was stealing secret glances at me, but then there often is a gulf between my mind and reality. I took every reasonable opportunity to be near her and say something, anything. I pulled freight past her department many times, and each time I looked up at her in an attempt to make eye contact. I swore sometimes when I stole a peek at her, she was staring back. Maybe I was just seeing what I wanted to see.

At first I fantasized that she was quiet, demure and conservative. When I heard her use “****” and “shit” in the same sentence and talk of drinking, I realized that my estimation of her conservativeness was off the mark. The more I learned about Paige, the more my infatuation for her built. I wished I knew something of what she thought of me. I convinced myself that she was likewise wondering about me.

One day I was pulling a pallet down her isle, when she deliberately stepped in front of me and tried to get in my way and smiled at me. I said,"Stand right there." I pointed to a spot directly in my path and I continued sarcastically,"I promise I won't run you over."

She said something about how we would be standing there all night. Do you think she was flirting? I should have said something witty in response, but I didn't. If I had, I would've said something like,"I could think of worse places to stand all night."

Paige began smiling at me almost every time I saw her. Often, as I passed her, she looked right at me, made deliberate eye contact, and smiled at me. I wanted to tell her how I felt. The words were in my head, but they got lost in a microscopic black hole that lives somewhere along the path from my brain to my mouth. All that would come out was a string of mindless drivel that would've seemed banal to a toddler.

I stopped her friend Elizabeth once and asked her if Paige was single. She said she was very single and hadn't really ever known her to have a boyfriend. She gave me some strange look and said, “go for it.” I asked her what that look was about and she said, “Nothing. Paige is crazy.”

I asked a few other people about Paige. Basically the message I received from everyone was that at the very least it will be very difficult to win Paige's affection, because she is not really interested in dating. I thought she just didn't realize she had met the right person. All of this added a bit of mystery to her. It also made the chase all the more fun. With everything I learned about her, I became more entranced by her.

My friend Eric said he thought she liked me; he could tell by her nonverbal language. I asked him for more information saying that sometimes I can miss subtleties. He said it was the way she looked at me and how she played with her hair when she was talking to me. Obvious signs that I must have been blind to miss, but somehow I never quite caught on to them.

Later that day, I was pulling a pallet to the back when Paige sought me out, calling out to me by name and asked if I needed any help. We then did some work in the back and began a little bit of flirting back and forth. After a while, we decided to finish up and go to break. We walked together to drop some things off in a few departments and made our way back to the break-room. I stayed an extra hour to have lunch with her. After her lunch, I walked her to her department, and she said she would see me next time. If we had another night like that, I was ready to ask her out. I guess I was just a little shy, but I didn't like to admit that.

When I next returned to work, I was eager to see Paige again. As often happens my hopes never really match reality. I had hoped she would walk in and notice me right away and we would take up from where we left off last. Disappointment is always an unwelcome guest. She stood miles away across the room chatting with a co-worker named Chris. I was rendered petrified, helpless to cross the room and go stand beside her. I convinced myself to strike up a conversation with Chris. I didn't want it to look like I was going over there to see her. Chris fatuously chatted with her she played along. It was at this moment that I realized that Paige was just a flirt. Yet, I couldn't give up on her. I had this nagging feeling that we were meant to be together for however long or whatever became of that relationship. I should stop listening to those feelings. I joined the conversation picking out things she said that gave me glimpses into her personality.

Paige had told me at one time that she liked to read romantic novels. Remembering this, I thought it would be a grand romantic gesture to leave poetry I had written for her on her car. The next night I took the opportunity to leave my first poem on Paige's car.

The next day no one mentioned the poem I left for Paige. If she did get it, she wasn't offended by it or bothered by it. I'm not sure if she knew it was me who left it, though I didn't think that it would be much of a stretch for her to deduce that I was the author.

The final poem I left for Paige had my name and phone number on it. I waited for days for a call that never came. The first day I saw Paige after revealing on the last poem that I was the author, I worried what she would think. How she would act towards me? In the back of my mind, I knew nothing had really changed. She had had many opportunities to reject my advances, but hadn't. So what did I need to worry about? I was still worried though. I'd been burned before, one never really forgets that, even if the wounds have healed. My first reassurance came when I was in the grocery receiving throwing boxes into the bailing machine. She said hello to me in her usual chipper manner and with her reassuring smile. While this may have been just a hello, it said to me that she wasn't displeased with me. Paige was one to say so if she was. She had told me once that she was one who speaks her mind.

Several torturous days passed with no relief of my mental and emotion angst. I asked Chris to talk to his girlfriend Sarah to see if Paige had mentioned anything to her about me. He told me later that Sarah said she would talk to Paige. I just wanted information, but I went along with it anyway.

The following evening Paige approached me at the nightly meeting and said that people kept coming up to her and telling her that I had a crush on her. I said nothing. She said she had gotten my poems (what she referred to as notes) and that they were nice. I asked her if she liked them. She said she did. She asked me if I had taken a class in poetry. I said that I hadn't and stumbled through a few other words that had about as much meaning as Hitler had remorse. All the words that I should have said suddenly escaped from the black hole, but they were too late, because a few moments earlier she had gotten up and went to sit with someone else. I should have said something more. Why didn't I?

Days went by and she said nothing more about the poems or my feelings for her. I didn't want to sit around and wait forever, so I wrote her a letter. I put everything on the line. Love or rejection, I just wanted the serenity of having brought it to completion. It was met with limited success as she came to me the next day to discuss the letter.

I'd known for some time that she really wasn't interested in me, but I didn't want to admit it to myself. Maybe I should have known after I came back from my time off, and she didn't appear to care that I was back. I guess I unconsciously decided at that point to pursue her anyway.

Some people were born to be great speakers and others were born to be great speak writers. I guess I fall into the later category. I suppose some people can't appreciate that. I sometimes still find myself thinking of Paige. If only. . . never mind. Life must go on and on and on.

Hussie....she didn't deserve you anyway!!!

Thank you sweetheart.

wow, what an incredible story... super sweet... keep that heart of yours as golden as the halo that she wore.....

Thank you for your kind words and for taking the time to read my work.

i have never in my short life known a pain like loving someone you can never have

nicely done...

Yes it is painful, until someone comes into your life and like an ointment on your wounds, completely changes your outlook on love.
Thank you reading my story.

Thank you, dude.

WOW!!!

Heartwarming and deeply sincere,, pure-ness of your soul shines

Pssssssssssssstttttttttttt No attempt for love is ever a failure

It is a few years past; I wrote this while it was still fresh on my heart. Time and a wonderful woman are helping to leave it all behind. Thnk you for taking the time to read it.