monologue of a man in love with an unobtainable.

Leaning in to get a better view I can’t help but wonder just how she’s put together.  I mean shit, she’s probably one of the most attractive girls I know, but that’s really not it.  She radiates life to me.  Sounds like shit I know but I can’t figure out any other way of saying it.  If the world is in three dimensions then she’s got a fourth. 

I just wish I had a chance of joining her in that fourth dimension.  We are friends, have been forever, but I don’t think she looks at me and sees me the same way.  I think I appear just slightly transparent to her eyes. 

You ever have that?  That feeling of complete and utter you-really-ain’t-shit-but-ill-be-nice-to-you-because-its-in-my-nature vibe that just won’t go away, like you’re the old black man in the toilet handing the more important people their hand towels.  Fuck I hate that.  For 13 years I’ve felt like that.  I find myself doing the most stupid shit just to prove that I’m not that old black fuck in the toilet to her.  It never seems to work though.

Like today, I did just about every conceivable act of soul glowing goodness I could think of, mainly to get her attention, but nothing.  We talked- about the damn weather and how the Angels were going to do this year.  What the fuck do I know about the Angels?  I mean its baseball right?  God I hope so or I ended up sounding even more stupid than normal. 

I mean how does one come up to a friend and say, “hey ive been dreaming of you for the last 13 years and I really think I love you and want you to feel the same way.  So how’s about it, any chance?”  Fuck.  Just fuck….

I mean it’s not even that she is a nun.  I can live with that.  It’s not even that she’s married to something I don’t even believe in.  It’s more that I don’t think my ego, large as it is, could deal with feeling that transparent the rest of my life.

The End

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