Sunday Scribblings (Flashback)

This week's word is Flashback:

I was drawn to her unpretentious, yet careful, attire, the smirk that shot across her face when she thought others were not paying attention, and the manner in which she held her beauty. She was the most inviting woman I had ever laid eyes on, and there had been many. This one, unlike those before, did not stir my sexual response as much as light my mind on fire. I longed to hear her story, and for her to hear mine. Her presence made me love both myself and the future.

The normal me would sit back, hope, and wait . . . if it was meant to be, it would. I was keenly aware, however, that if I did not act, and do so right then, she would drift in and out of my days many feet from me, with only a smile here and there to keep me going, until she was gone. That was not an option. Therefore, I attacked the situation, inserted myself into her path, and refused to be absent, for even a moment. I knew that failure would dent my delicate psyche, and an arrest for stalking would do the same to my career, but I was going to get her to notice me. I felt that with that much, I could do anything.

Once I got her ear—a much easier task than I had anticipated—I took full advantage, and told her every good thing about myself, with just enough bad sprinkled in to keep me honest. I talked a lot and made a complete fool of myself. But she laughed, assured me that I was fine, and disclosed her most intimate secrets. With some reluctance, a serious talk or two, persistence, and time, she accepted what I was offering. We embarked on a romance that proved to this lost soul that love is real, painful, and exhilarating.