Impulse controls me.

There exists no thought behind some of my actions, simply sudden urge to react. Often these actions seem rather rash looking back, the logic hidden if present at all. I may speak as though I'm not really processing what comes out of my mouth. Though often funny or interesting, I'm frequently marveling along with everyone else, simply amazed at what I came up with. Maybe, I'll admit, I do that in my everyday actions as well. Push on a door when there's a handle, run around away from sprinklers when it's only water; my actions, unexplainable as they are, often are just done by instinct.

I therefore blame my spasmodic ways, above all other things, to explain my odd action of marching up to you in determination. My mind obviously was misplaced that morning, perhaps left behind in my apartment. Now that I think about it, I was in a rush to leave and hardly had time to grab some breakfast. If I didn't have time to catch breakfast, it was probable I left my sense at home along with my toast. It remains entirely possible that I have no rational thought at all right now, just left with those animal feelings: instincts.

Still, something had to start the urge to go up and ask you. It couldn't be simply, "oh look. It's you! Let's ask right this second!" There must had been some start, some trigger. Something must have had pushed me over the edge into the abyss. Whatever that something was, I may – depending on the answer – beat its owner senseless.

Perhaps it was the idea that apocalyptic doom may happen at any moment, not warning us ahead of time. That, my some back luck, I could die today, and you would never know. Or, worse than my own death, you may die, and I would never be able to say it, regretting it all my life. I would have to go through life wondering how it may have ended differently.

You could have been over at my place, I imagine, blushing. And you may have been walking right next to me, that way either we don't die or we die together. Maybe we would have the classic lovers' death scene from so many movies or novels. If only I said something sooner, fallen prey to my own weakness before. Then you wouldn't have to die. Maybe that's what made me act.

Or perhaps it was the couple across the street, holding hands, which set me off. Maybe I was sudden intoxicated with the idea of being in close contact with you all the time, being together like glue. The way your hand would fit in mine, our fingers melting to the point where we couldn't tell whose was whose. The way we could sit next to each other and just talk and laugh for hours at a time, no care in the world as time wove thin.

The simple pleasures, maybe, were what took me in the most. The knowledge that I wouldn't have to worry about lingering too long when I touched you or staring too long into your eyes. No worries in the world other than when I'll get to see you again. The pleasant sensations swooping over us both as we went against the world's expectations. Maybe that was what I was fighting for, not only against the "evil" people we fought, but the chance, the risk, I was taking.

Or maybe, just maybe, I took that leap of faith because it was a risk. Because I knew that life would continue anyway, that people love, hurt, and heal over and over again. Maybe because I knew the cycle would always continue that I understood I could take a step into this new world and simply enjoy it. Not worry about the titles, the expectations, the staring of others, but we could just concentrate on us, as people. Just worry about whatever bond it is that we share.

Then again, it could always be nothing.

Maybe walking up to you on that bright morning, stuttering out if you would like to go out some time, explaining that we would go out as couple and watching you blush and reply mean nothing to me or to you. Maybe your answer means nothing at all, either. Maybe everything is nothing, and nothing is everything.

What if my question, your answer, what if everyone's actions weren't directed by thoughts and society and everything else? What if society isn't the driving force behind people's actions? What if it's not love? What if it's not rational thought, despite what we wish it to be?

Maybe rational thought isn't anything at all.

Maybe it's all just impulse.