15 Seconds of Courage

So I have this cute little fantasy in my head. I'm baking cookies with some guy, and we're messing up the recipe and flour is just all over our faces and clothes because we were so carelessly playful and caught up in the moment. We finally get the recipe right, and rolled the dough into little balls to put on the cookie sheet, but of course saving some raw dough just because.

While we're waiting for the sweets to bake, I'm sitting on the counter, my legs wrapped around this boy's back as his hands rest on my waist. We're laughing; I don't know about what and I don't think it really matters. The point is, we're laughing, and I feel comfortable and safe.

The problem in the past with this fantasy was the fact that I could never give this mysterious boy a name. I didn't know who I wanted it to be that smeared flower on my nose as I put a white handprint on his shirt. It was always vague and I never pictured this with anyone in particular; I just always wanted it to happen.

Recently, I was finally able to picture who that guy would be. I pictured him and got those little butterflies that made me feel so sick and warm simultaneously that I curled up on my side and smiled. In my daze, I was able to convince myself that maybe fifteen seconds of courage was all I would need, and I could get him. Just ask him, hey, we should hang out sometime. We should go see a movie, or go to a car show, and then we should bake cookies. Those thoughts made me even happier, until I opened my eyes.

I realized that this particular guy would be out of his mind to be interested in someone like me. He's one of those people that everyone likes, and everyone wants to be his friend. Girls climb over each other to get his attention. Sure, he has his obnoxious moments when all he wants to do is make people laugh, but he's a genuinely great guy. And here I am, the girl that just tries her best in school and becomes extremely quiet during classes and tends to not linger in the hallways for unnecessary socialization. As much as I love talking to people, I'm not the social butterfly that he is.

This guy could have any girl he wanted; he could snag one of the 'popular' girls easily, who are much prettier and 'put together' than I am. Not to say that their lives are particularly better, because I don't know that for sure, but they always have smiles on their faces, and their laughs could resurrect a dead puppy. Their grades are perfect and they're able to balance a social life. He could go for one of them, so why would he go for me?

I'm pretty, sure, but I'm not beautiful. I'm not extraordinary, or optimistic. I have a low tolerance for people as of late and I tend to be closed off and guarded. I'm not antisocial, but I know how to put up a front to seem friendly while inside all I want to do is curl up in bed and watch a few movies with my cat.

I guess my point is that it's funny how I was able to convince myself that I might have a chance with this wonderful guy when I'm nothing special.. I wish that thought would last, and I would get that 15 seconds of courage to ask him on a date.