Dapper Gemstone Advocates

What would I say to Love? Should she walk through the door right now, what words could possibly suit the occasion?

But of course, what circumstances could bring her here in the first place? Or what circumstances might I be in that would warrant the ordering and aligning of the cosmos?

My desire is that the provenance of Love be in a favorite coffee shop or a downtown park. Mayhaps atop a mountain overlooking a reluctantly lively, woefully avarice, decadently rapacious cityscape, clouds of halcyon above, foreshadowing a downpour that our Love would be steeped in. The mountain simply a personification of the place our Love will always lead us to in this world of uncertainty.

Yet I know I do not live in fairytale, I simply daydream as a Pollyanna when I daydream of Love. Why should Love not allow us to, for a moment, believe in the impossible? And why should we not believe in the impossible? If not Love, then what?

Even meeting Love amid tragedy seems cliché and too good to be true, as the answer to woes would simply be standing there, waiting to remove the veil of blind anguish.

So, being realistic for a moment, or mayhaps pessimistically commonplace, what would I say to Love, should she meet me in my cubicle? And why is she here?

“Do you have the office camera?” she would, no doubt, blush as she asks.

“Oh, hi…uh, yeah. One sec,” and I’d stall to keep her in place so we might both cherish this moment, “Here you go.”

“Thanks.”

“I LOVE YOU!” No no no, that may be a bit too rash… “See you around.” Might be creepy, especially if she doesn’t like me at first. Maybe I ought to sing to her. No… that’d do me in faster than the “See you around.”

“Yup, no problem,” and I smile stupidly as she walks away. And I wouldn’t know her name. But I’ll know her when I see her. And I’ll think of all the clever things I never said, how I was hunched over and typing something forgettable, how I hardly smiled when I looked at her, how I have a crease in my shirt and forgot to shave today. And I’d pray that she only remember where I sit, that I had the office camera, and my eyes, and I’d pray my eyes weren’t dull. Of course, to Love, my eyes will be exactly what she’s been searching for.

So remember to always dress yourself as if you are about to meet the Love of your life, from smile to socks. And when you aren’t dressed up smile to socks, remember that your eyes are the dapper gemstone advocates that will captivate Love, and all else will be but a blur to her.

Or mayhaps I am, once again, believing the impossible.