Referer (Sic) Logs (5)
Days and days and days passed by, and I will admit that I thought of her from time to time. And sometimes, it was hard to wrench my mind from wondering about that killer pout she had, sort of like Catholic school girl meets Parisian model on a rainy day. (I never told her about that, either, because that would have wrecked the whole thing if she had been self-conscious about it; and that would have been a shame.) Days and days and days. She still showed up in my referer logs, months after, though the frequency did drop some. But she never let a whole week go by without visiting, and I was still pretty sure it was her, even if she didn’t come from my home page anymore, with the telltale trail. Months. And I tried to move on, as best as I could, being set up on one date after another by “the elders” (that’s what I call my mom, dad, aunts, etc. collectively), never a good match, seeing as how they took no consideration with whom they were setting me up with, except that they were single and looking. Not really desirable traits, ironically. The whole time, I worked on it: I tried to let go.
About eight months later, I made up my mind to try my hand at finding women myself in this great big city in which I lived. Of course, letting you know now that I lived in one goes with the fact that I’m such a homebody that now would really be the first relevant time that you’d know that there was a city involved. Starbucks was a good target, I decided, the one across the street from my favorite bookstore. So I started hanging out there, keeping an eye out for that foxy little thang which whom would turn my head around and round. Being still the geek, I brought my work there, some projects in computer science I was working on — and as a matter of happenstance, I never did go up to anyone. At one point, I had this intuition that if the right girl were to walk in, I would know it. I wouldn’t have to be guessing if this one were the one for me: it would overtake me, the moment, and I would be one with it. So I relaxed, and I kept going there, scribbling away in my little notebook. But here’s what happened: one evening came when she walked in. Her. The ex, whose digital trail I had been so scrupulously tracing. She was with a group of adult students for some class she was taking at a little school nearby, which I had not known of at all. She was surprised to see me; I was more like stunned, expressionless. Barely able to talk, completely blank in my head.
(to be continued…)