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Sunday, July 23, 2006 

Perfect Nothings

Think tall. Not so tall that I have to wear heels permanently, but tall enough that I can’t complain. Dark hair, three quarter length combats, and a sleeveless black top. For some reason he reminds me a little of Robert Redford. Except younger, and so much more attractive. Even though Robert Redford is pretty hot for his age.

He’s older than strictly I’m allowed. Thirty five-ish maybe, so approximately double my age. He’s with two kids, a girl and a boy, both beneath the age of ten. He’s a daddy. They’re feeding the deer and he needs some change for the food dispenser thingumy so his kids can feed them more. At first glance as it’s explained we’ve run out of change ourselves, I think he’s good for his age. But I’m not paying attention; I was there to watch the kids not the adults. But then I do watch him a little. He notices and I pull the sunglasses over my eyes and watch him some more. I’m too young for this, and suddenly remember how young I must seem to him. I’m “oooohing and aaahhing” over the furriness of the deer’s antlers (who knew antlers were furry?) and I’m standing there in pigtails after deciding to do my hair ironically that morning. Of course, I’m the only one who knows that it’s ironic, and all he’s gonna see is a big kid in hoop earrings and over sized sunglasses.

Nothing happened. He obviously has a wife somewhere, though he was on his own with his kids, and if I were to play Sherlock to the situation I would make a guess as to them being broken up and him having the kids for the weekend. But that’s still a very bad excuse for flirting with him far too obviously for the next half hour or so. And it was entirely unreciprocated; if it had been I wouldn’t have been flirting, merely watching with interest. But it was still wrong. I mean, the guy had kids.

So this is one of those situations that means nothing. I won't ever see him again, and even if I do there is a very slim chance that we would recognise each other. But it was nice. It was nice to feel that even with my hair ironically making me look twelve, and two bawling kids at both of our ankles, there was still a brief connection. He was probably the most attractive person I've ever met, and it was strange because his face wasn't conventionally attractive (though oh my god his body was) and he was so far off limits that I felt bad smiling back at him. But I couldn't help it.

I hate those moments. The ones as you're walking through a crowd and you meet someone's eyes, or a brief conversation when there is too much at stake for it to ever be something more. But I love them too because even though it was nothing, he was still the most perfect nothing I've ever encountered, and he made me remember that people as attractive as him do exist after all, they aren't just myths, and occasionally they'll give you a short period of time in which the world is perfect, and you feel attractive and wonderful. Even though, in the end, you know it will never happen.

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Sometimes those moments are the best there is :)

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Perfect nothings. What a brilliant way to describe those moments.

You are walking aimlessly.
You spot something unique about the boy in front. His hair. His walk. His smile.
You walk on but three seconds later you decide to have another cheeky look.

He's looking back at you too.

You both smile sheepishly and as you walk off your stomach feels syrupy.

Syrupy is the only way I can think of describing it.


I'm so glad you are back honey, I was missing you.

Nina xx

Syrupy is a gorgeous way of describing it. And those moments are by far the best.

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  • An albatross can fly for thousands of miles without getting tired. I've always thought that love is similar to flying, therefore we should aspire to be like the albatross.

    I don't know if I can do that. So far I haven't been so lucky. But one day I'll test my wings with someone, and flying won't be so hard after all. Or so painful.
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    * Each year over 300,000 seabirds are killed by longline fishing.
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