Per Robin's encouragement, I am posting another real journal entry.Viewer discretion is advised.I am, upon the coming of fall, a romantic. At first exposure to 60 degree weather my skin tightens, and I’m excited to take walks outside, as I can watch subdued sunlight filter through moving clouds and cast it’s grey light on the grass and trees. I gaze, I hope, I dream of a hand to hold, an arm to curve around my shoulders. And for some strange reason am comforted by simply the ideas. I walk content to be alone, watching my own feet take steps and arms held tight around my middle. I even caught myself the other night walking indoors with this posture. Niah had taken me out for a panini sandwich, then we afterwards progressed to Barnes and Noble. Upon arriving we separated, to peruse the isles of society’s latest and greatest entertainment. I hit up the music section, dwelling most comfortably on my dreams and wishes. It was here that I noticed a set of handsomely clad feet, just a few steps ahead and to the left of me. I let my eyes creep up, up past the shiny square toed shoes, the grey slacks and the well fitted white button down, then to the back of the nicely styled head of black hair. He was wearing headphones.I passed, turning toward the organized albums, starting with “s” only feeling heat in my cheeks for a second. My glancing eyes forgotten for the titles and prices, I was startled when I heard a guy ask “Is there anything I can help you find?” I turned for sure thinking that the question wasn’t being directed at me...but the same young, very good looking man definitely had his eyes and smile fixed on me (I also realized I was the only person in that section of the store). I smiled and let the honest response fall from my lips, “No thanks, I’m just looking around.” He continued to smile, so we stood a little and I noticed him notice me - twice he scanned me from my newly styled hair to my skirt and shoes. Not in a way that made me feel his sleeze, but in a way that made me feel solely appreciated. A gentle admirable way. I smiled and said “thanks though.”, he nodded and stood still smiling at me, I turned to scanning and rattling cd’s distractedly. I could tell he was still looking at me, he came up beside me twice, pulling cd’s forward, then pushing them back. He came, on both sides, and each time I scooted accordingly to make a bit more room between us. I fought the urge to look up...if I looked up and he really were still looking at me, I’d probably let my throat lurch and he’d see for sure, that thing moving in my eyes. What would I have to say if he did want to talk to me? I stayed looking down, like a social retard until I heard him move back to his listening post...I kind of tried to inconspicuously move around the perimeter of the section before walking through the theft monitors into the greater portion of the store. Once I was out, I felt as though fresh air were cooling my face. Finding the drinking fountain I gulped a few, and breathed. The why questions came soon after as I looked at books by beloved authors, and felt at peace with my aloneness...my superior invisible act. Then 60 second encounter was pretty much right on with my fall day dreams. Why did it make me squirm so? What was so threatening to me about him flashing me secrets of admiration in his eyes? Isn’t that what I long for after watching Colin Firth in Pride and Prejudice? It’s one thing to run away from those skanky visual feel ups. To want to run home, shower and dress myself in a burlap sack is not so uncalled after such affairs. What is wrong though with looking someone safe in the eye (yes I can assess who’s safe within 30 seconds or less), without freaking out? I know I freak, because I don’t know what to expect...I don’t know how to respond to the reality of action being taken. I can’t think it out on the spot, and I most definitely can’t announce my mental congestion to said party without sounding ridiculous. Either way I am ridiculous, perhaps I'll read this and laugh someday. Laugh like I do now at the picture my parents blew up of me and a certain crush...when it's a distant memory in a journal I long ago filled up. I'm mortified for the time being, but...changes do come.