Wednesday July 19th
I sat here for twenty minutes thinking over today, wondering what to write. The words are in my head but my hand won't get them down. Just write anything!
I like the ride back home, I look forward to it because more often then not I never get a seat. I would have to stand up, holding onto a rail while from all sides I'm being touched. I enjoy it because there's nothing committing about it or anything suspect. It's not like I'm doing anything rude or wrong. No one would shun me because I was one of many, all touching each other.
Being touched is not meant to be anything personal, it's not meant to have this much of an effect on me. I should just write down what happened. Right.
So I had that Pixie girl's (she really looks like a fairy) book in my bag, I took it to work with me in hope that I would see her on the way there or back home. I didn't see her in the morning but I did on the way back. God, I don't know what the hell happened.
I was by the doors, people crowded around me when I saw this flash of green through the window. It was her. I stopped the doors from closing and she jumped on. Now the compartment was really crowded and hot and she was pressed up to me. She had her hands on my chest, to steady herself as the train started to go. I could see her bare back reflected in the doors when she moved (she was wearing a dress). She quickly lowered her hands, they were feather light and slim, and then she looked up at me and smiled.
God. There isn't words to describe what I felt, I'll need to invent them I think. But I'll try. I felt like I had been simultaneously filled up and punctured, just from looking at her. I had no air, I was just blood and heart which was trying to beat it's way out of my chest. I still feel funny thinking about it. She had a tear shaped face, chin a tapering point. Her mouth, naturally deep pink and wide, was quirked up at a corner. She started to draw in her bottom lip, like she was sucking on it. Sounds so corny but she had Disney eyes, huge sloe shaped orbs that took up half her face. She had short brown hair, a bit wavy.
I couldn't look away, I was staring at her with my mouth open like an idiot. I think she thought so to because she snorted very softly through her nose and looked down.
I don't stare at people, not so that they'd notice anyway, but I did with her. I totally lost my senses. When she looked down I felt like I had been released because if she hadn't I think I would have been looking into her eyes the whole way home.
Safe to say I still have the book, I was going to give it back, that was my plan all along, but I suddenly became speechless. Struck dumb.
I need to relax, I don't know what's wrong with me.
Thursday July 20th
Morning: Going to work. Got the Book with me. I've promised myself that if I see her again I'll just hand it over and walk away, no need to get all nervous over it. Right, I'm going now.
Night: Pixie was there in the morning. I saw her eyes skim me and she smiled and nodded before lowering her head. She had another book.
No one was there, I could have sat next or near her but instead I moved to the other end of the compartment. Because the thought of being near her again made my lungs feel like leather. I was sweating like crazy to so I must have look really weird, standing there for so long before moving away. I didn't want her to think I was a weirdo so I didn't look at her. Well, I tried not to.
Once I got in the shop I read the book. It was a romance about the love lives of contemporary women. About them having babies. I hid the book under the table whenever anyone walked in, stupid but I felt a bit like a thief. I would find myself running the tips of my fingers over the pages, tracing the creased edges of them, imagining her fingers turning the pages, careful not to leave smudges. She had even left the shop sticker on the back.
Ok so I had read the woman's book, there was no reason not to give it back right? Wrong. Again she was there on the way back but not so close to me. So I had room to breathe and think but I didn't want to get her attention because it would attract everyone else's. So I kept quiet and hoped the crowd would thin out. Funny, first time I've wished not to have them there.
The passengers got off and it was coming up to her stop, passed mine I might add, and I geared myself up to go to her. I got to the point where I was standing behind her back and again that crushing swelling feeling overtook me and before I knew it the doors were closing and she was on the other side of them, walking away.
Jesus Christ, I don't like this disruption. I don't even know who she is.
Friday July 21st
I blame everything that happened today on no sleep and possibly a bout of temporary insanity.
All I wanted to do was give the stupid book back, that's all. I didn't mean to follow her.
Ok so all day I was hypersensitive, seeing things really clearly which is crazy because I had no sleep whatsoever. I was feeling really unsteady on my feet. I closed my lids and all I could see was her. Anyway, she wasn't there in the morning but I revving myself up all day to give it to her, maybe because it was the end of the week, rounding everything off.
She was there, about to get off and I thought that this was it, stop being a jerk and just tap on her shoulder, tell her I found her book and wish her a nice day. Done and dusted.
I ended up following her out the doors, out the subway and into the road. I was following her. I've become one of those guys. The first few minutes I kept on thinking to myself, shouting really, to turn back or just speed up and give it to her. I was about to, the words were on my tongue but she suddenly stopped and started to walk backwards. I froze but she hadn't seen me, she was walking back to a telephone booth. There were cards all over it, I think they were prostitute cards. She stood looking at it for a couple of seconds, a frown on her face before she started to pull them all down. She looked angry, a bit frenzied even. When they were all off she ripped them up and threw the pieces into a bin. I saw her sigh, her shoulders relaxing. Then she carried on walking.
And I carried on following. It was like my legs weren't mine anymore, my body had become dislocated from my brain. It was when she started to get her keys out that I found control again. So I got on the train, dead beat tired, and came home.
I turned around before I saw where she lived but it doesn't make what I did any better.
I feel so ashamed.