Because apparently, Staccato is not enough and my blog can accommodate another post about this tall, blue, millean-neoliberal ‘stranger’ who is my justification to answering ‘yes’ to the question ‘Can you like and dislike someone at the same time?’
After everything she said about you barely a few weeks ago, she never imagined that your next meeting would be anything like this.
It was not even supposed to happen. She was supposed to have her class at PH 224, end of the story. But chance (not destiny, not fate, just pure chance) decided that today when she went to PH 224 after Ken’s treat the room would be empty and she’d have to go to FC; that Denesse would change her mind about her offer to accompany her to class; that she would walk to AS’s first floor alone.
That she would meet you on her way there.
You were on your way upstairs as she headed downstairs. She didn’t recognize you right away (did you have your hair cut recently?) but as you drew nearer and her eyes flicked at your direction, she realized that it was indeed you.
And she realized that even though you were talking to someone on the phone, you were definitely looking at her too.
It wouldn’t have mattered, until she suddenly remembered that although you had talked to her two times before (you talked to her, not you talked to each other, because she didn’t say anything back) the two of you have never been formally introduced to each other, so technically you were strangers.
And basically two strangers were staring at each other as one made her way downstairs and the other made his way upstairs, amidst the flecks of motion rushing to and from every direction called AS at 1pm. (And no, the world kept its regular axis, rotation and revolution - no slow motion moments.)
She quickly looked away, and from the corner of her eye she saw that you did exactly the same thing. She blames neither herself nor you; after all, indifference, or at least feigned indifference, is what a person’s reaction should be to strangers.
The only thing that annoyed her is the fact that for some reason that she herself can’t explain with even a single ounce of coherence, she just had to bring her eyes back on you again.
She was, for the lack of words, horrified to see that you had looked at her again too.
She looked away for the second time, feeling blood gush to her face. Why does she feel like she forgot to sign out before viewing a stranger’s page at Multiply and the stranger viewed her page back? She never even owned a Multiply account, for St-Pierre’s sake.
The only thing that annoyed her more is the fact that despite how awkward the situation already was, she couldn’t help herself from looking at you again.
And for the third time in about five seconds, you were looking right back at her.
She muttered an obscenity but could not keep an amused grin from taking over her indifferent façade. She didn’t know if you took it as her smiling at you in acknowledgement, but your free hand moved slowly, reluctantly into… will she take it as you waving at her in similar acknowledgement? (Nah, she won’t.)
She looked away from you for the last time just as the two of you finally walked past each other, she on her way downstairs and you on your way upstairs. This time, she kept her eyes on the ground until she saw Jaime Naval’s feet.
And for the second time in three weeks, you made her ears burn.
To my Grandma who I’ve only met once
1 year ago