I’m not the kind of girl you fall in love with on the train station platform.
In fact, if we are ranking my Top 10 Places To Fall In Love, it ranks somewhere next to the airport terminal and the end of your driveway.
More likely, you will spot me from across the room and wonder where my parents wandered off. Wonder when they’re coming back. Whether I know my last name and my home phone number in case they somehow shimmy between those automatic doors and plop into a compartment without ever remembering to pull me along.
And that’s OK. Because I’ve learned to board the train, haul my luggage through the aisles, put the car into reverse all by myself. All without waiting for your waving arms and perfect movie ending.
And if we are being honest, it’s better this way.
Don’t do me any favors. No, don’t wrap your arms around me just to make the early hours of the morning easier to sleep through. Because it’s not your fault.
I know, I know. I am six seconds shy of ridiculous.
But you won’t find me on that platform or in the airport lounge. Or the passenger’s seat of your car, for that matter.
I’m just not one of those girls you fall in love with from across the room. Or standing two feet away making loud conversation over red fruit punch laced with something to put the sting in your swallow while those girls envelop us.
The First Sight Girls.
You know who I mean.
We haven’t quite hit that point where you can lean in and ask me what I’d do if I could do anything and I’d tell you the truth. Where I’d slip a piece of my heart into your t-shirt pocket and ask you to take good care of it for the rest of the night and maybe a couple hundred nights more.
If you’re sure you won’t forget about it, that is. Sure you won’t leave it like folded gum wrappers and gas station receipts that fizzle into beads of white fuzz in the washing machine. I have a feeling the spin cycle wouldn’t be like the carnival ride.
I’m holding my gum wrappers and gas station receipts. Sticking with things I know to be true. Like two plus two equals four and the way some songs say it better than I ever could. Some writers wrote love better than I ever have.
And if someday far from red fruit punch and solo cups and twenty other girls I fiddle with my heart in my back pocket and decide to release my grip, I’m hoping it’s better that way. So so much better that way.
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