I’ve been having difficulty putting this in words, and what you’re reading right now is probably the fourth rewrite. Unfortunately for you, that doesn’t translate to this entry being any better than the previous attempts.
Our story, like most others, revolves around a girl. I don’t know her. I don’t know anything about her. I don’t even know her name. It’s just, every time I see her, I get this oddly exhilarating rush… my head is in the clouds, I’m all fluttery as my heart begins to race and my knees (and most of the rest of me) get weak, in a good tingly way.
I’m euphoric, I’m inspired, and I’m peaceful. It’s like, for that brief instant, everything’s “just right” and I know why I am. Everything seems to slow down, and it’s all so… clear.
Of course, all of these are just words. In them, I’m struggling, but failing to accurately capture the effect her presence has on me.
This… high… lasts for a while, and the moment she’s out of sight, the pleasurable quivering[2,3] begins to die down. It soon negates, and now I’m shivering in terror as it dawns on me… I don’t know her. And, knowing me, I probably won’t ever.
If you’re particularly naive, you might say, “Well, if it affects you so much, what harm could it possibly do to just talk to her?” All I can say in response is “Easier said than done”. Does one ever really approach a total stranger, with whom they probably have nothing in common, and ‘just start’ a pleasant conversation? What would you talk about? Compliment the fabulous way she’s worn her hair? Make an insightfully-witty comment pertaining to the book she’s carrying? Hide your watch and ask for the time? Talk about the weather?
Without any sort of common circumstantial environment, what?
(That was almost a rhetorical question. Cheesy lines picked from movies, like “The moment I saw you, I knew I was going to marry you”, and variants, will not be tolerated.)
For all I know, she’s probably married, or something.
The scary thing here is, well, I’m not a kid. You’d think crushes and such are in the realm of the 14 year olds and their boy band member fantasies, not me. Not now. Especially not one who almost prides himself in not having a single thread of irrationalism in the fiber of his being.
The scariest thing, however, is how could one so articulate begin to emulate a mute when he needs his words the most?
 A grand total of six times over the past couple of months. No, there were no instances involving binoculars. And is it weird that I vividly remember each instance?
 No, not what you just thought.
 Yes, you have reached the punchline this post was crafted around. You can stop reading now if you choose.
 That is not to say that I am particularly articulate or anything, just that I am not dumb. As in, I am fully capable of speaking.