HE IS COMING TO ME

1. Encounter

I am not a girl who loves the world as it is. I dream of it to get better. Form the moment I realized that I could I dream, it has been my only prayer. Yet at my early twenty years of age I am disappointed but not hopeless. I still hope to meet someone who will have the courage to prove to me that the world is a batter place and not tell me the philanthropic version of good and evil. I have yet to find them.

I met him though. A man. Or maybe he is still a boy.

It is cliché.

He might be one of those protagonist heroes that belong in a romance novel. He is handsome. He is tall, taller than me. Healthy and pretty. His eyes at first glance stops my heart and then sends it into a whirlwind. Smitten was not the word that could probably describe how I am feeling. He is here standing in front of me in busy streets. He is everything I wanted in my mind.

Charming yet calm. Hypnotic yet innocent. Lovely yet rough.
He does not seem to have dark parsona yet he was not white rather.

I have never met anyone like him. Not that I met many boys or man. My world had always been the apartment  that I shared with my family. I have been inside my apartment more I have been outside. I am pale because of lack of sunlight. I am lazy because I have nothing to but stay with my phone and computer. Sometime it feels like that my phone is actually my life partner while my computer is my friend. They both chase away the me who is lonely enough to die.

I think I get distracted very easily. Maybe that's why while my heart is in whirlwind I can still think about how my life has been in the past ten years or so.

Or maybe he is not as effective as I thought him to be.

He does not seem to mind though. He does not probably see me the way I see him.

'Hi.' I do not recognize my own voice. I never knew  that I had in me to speak to a boy I have met for the first time in my life. Why do I keep calling him a boy? He must around my age, though I am not good with age guessing. What to do?

Our meeting is to me a fated mess. I am standing on the footpath, too afraid to cross the road. He is talking on the phone. He is probably waiting for his bus to arrive. He has not seen me. I have only seen his partial side. He suddenly veers towards me or rather to see if the bus is coming from the other side, I think. Our eyes meet only for a brief moment. He blinks and then looks away. I am still rooted to my spot. My heart is about to come out through my mouth, my mind million miles per hour. Yet he is aware of me. What to do?

'What time is it?' Why do I keep doing this to myself? He is so beautiful. I am an insane kid without any idea of what I am doing. The smile I use for to be polite with other is plaster on my face. I get angry at myself for not being able to smile genuinely.

He looks at me finally. My greeting ignored or maybe he did not think I was talking to him. '9:30 am.' His voice sent a tingle to my head through my ear, it soon reached my toes. What is happening to me?

He looks away again, his phone and his ear still attached. My eyes glues to the back of his head. I want to hear his voice again. What is he talking about? The curious part of mind seems to have not lost to the marathon inside my head. I am not lost yet.

A bus arrives. He gets on. I try to follow him. But I stop. I do not get on the bus. If I do get on I would be taken far from my destination which is on just the other side of the road. If I get on I will be taking a step back from my whatever remaining future. He is already on the bus. He turns towards me at the gate and sees me, probably for the first and last time as I am. The bus drives away leaving a thick dust filed with smell of diesel and me, the girl who does not have courage to take charge in her life.