Happy Me

Yesterday afternoon, I went to aero class after several days of absence. My work schedule for the past two weeks was really hectic. I had a fun time. I got to do seductive moves that I normally wouldn't get into. I didn't do them very well but it was fun.

Freddie was in the gym area when I finally came out of the dance studio. His face lit up when he saw me. He gave me a wave. This time he was more open, no longer tentative. He was happy to see me and he was not afraid to show it.

It was such a thrill, I didn't know what to do. We did exchange pleasantries; he even made a joke of having a meeting right there since three other members of our committee were present. He was so sweet. But since I didn't have a script for this kind of behavior coming from him, I didn't get to maximize the opportunity. So I left him for the shower room.

It was a wonderful feeling.

As I undressed, I glanced at myself in the mirror and noticed that a curly strand of hair had escaped my meticulously combed and pinned pony tail. It gave a softness to my face that I was unfamiliar with and I realized that I've always appeared meticulously arranged to Freddie. This was the first time he'd seen my hair disarranged, my face flushed, and my clothes all sweaty. And this was going to be the first time he'd see my complexion all tight and pinkish and glowing.

I love the way I look right after a good workout. My skin would just glow and shine with health. The pores on my face would be so tight, the flesh so compact. I look ten years younger. I combed my hair into the usual pony tail and stepped out of the shower room, ready to be praised.

Alas! The guy was on his back doing chest flies.

Oh, well. His loss, not mine. But I felt really bad. As always, I took it as a rejection. I kept thinking: why does he keep giving me mixed signals? The last time, he took his time to wait for me. This time, he doesn't even give a hoot.

Late that night, after several hours of feeling down and sorry for myself, I realized that the guy wasn't giving me mixed signals. The signals have never been mixed. He's attracted to me, but he can't do anything about it. So it wasn't rejection; it was an impasse.

That's not so bad.

My life is hilarious.