FIXATION

For more than a year now I've passed him in the street,
in every season, in all weathers:
sun, rain, hail, snow, gales, thunder.
By now I'm familiar with his entire wardrobe:
the smart city suit, the long black raincoat
with it's wide lapels and matching umbrella,
the indigo denims with slashed knees, his
lime green jogging suit. I often think of him
and the way his long dark curls
fall about his shoulders. And I long to know more.
His neighbour says he's only seldomly home, but when he sees her
he blows her a kiss. Oh if only that were me
I'd be ecstatic - just to be acknowledged by him!
Oh you sad fool - do you really think he'd notice you??
With the day off one Wednesday
I followed him (at a safe distance) to the park.
He was walking his Afghan Hound. My heart was racing.
I desperately wanted to go over and speak to him...

I am such an introvert. How do you approach
a man like him? God knows! But I long to, SO much.
Occasionally - and this is the cringeworthy bit -
I actually follow him home!
He almost caught me once, loitering
just inside his garden gate, behind a holly bush.
I had to hold my breath as he passed by,
so close I could smell his aftershave.
That fragrance has haunted me ever since,
evoking such exquisitely compelling fantasies!
Perhaps one day I'll find the courage to actually speak to him.
How I'd love to see him glance in my direction, to smile at me.
I frequently see an image of him in the fog.
But then it vanishes - deep longing's delusion, I guess.
Wind-driven mist can play peculiar tricks on the overimaginative mind!

Too often, I am compelled to walk that street.
Sometimes, I wish I were beautiful. But I'm not.
Other times, I wish he had a penchant for plainness...

Recollections of a seventeen-year-old me!! 😉😉