I have a bit of writers block right now… I have subjects, but little interest in writing about them. The reason may be familiar, it happens to almost everything on the planet during spring. I’m lovesick and frustrated. It’s not your fault, but I’ll take it out on you. I lean a little closer, talk a little softer. BAH, I disgust myself, gawking all the time. How else is it supposed to work? I can’t walk around feigning disinterest. I’ll just get ignored. Too close, and it’s not flirting anymore. And the rules are different for everyone I meet.
This one likes jokes, that one’s all business. This one looks nervous all the time. That one gets too close to me. This one’s too neat, that one’s too messy. This one's too loud, that one's too quiet.
I’m not being picky; they probably say the same things about me after I’m gone. I’ve asked the matchmakers for help from time to time, but they’re usually as stumped as I am. So, I’m left to stumble around in the dark hoping I don’t poke someone’s eye out.