Butterflies

I feel butterflies in my stomach whenever I see her.
She’s so beautiful, I just wish she would notice me.

I can walk up to her and introduce myself, of course.

I could be that one; I could be that man. That one man every woman is looking for. The one who is there for his woman. Not just financially, oh god, no. Not just financially, but emotionally too. I can be that one; I am that one.

But, she doesn’t, she doesn’t even know I exist. Oh, god.
Why can’t I just pick myself up, walk over to her and say hi? It’s because of these stupid butterflies. Go away, pests!

She’s so beautiful, I just wish she would notice me.

We’re both young. I know she’s smart, sincere, pleasant, artistic; that’s all I want in a woman - the perfect woman. I want to make her happy. I want to see her pearly whites be a result of me. That would make me happy. That would fulfill me and bring boundless energy to my life. That’s all I want, her happiness.

But, would it ever happen? Could we ever be together? I have to try. After all, what’s the worst thing that could happen? Rejection? Well, we’ll see about that. I’ll just pick myself up and walk over to her...

I never saw her again.

Stupid butterflies.