There's this guy at work that I think is absolutely gorgeous. Nothing strange there - there are a lot of people roaming the streets that are quite attractive. But everytime I have to talk to him I blush. And I don't mean that light becoming tinge they show on movies and the like. I light up like a flare. It's a very angry red kind of colour that starts at the naep of my neck, and goes all the way up.
Of course, that's when I can even get the nerve up to speak to him. Normally I can't even look at him for fear he will catch me looking at him. He must think I am such a minda.
I didn't even realise I liked this guy this way, in fact I really don't know if I like him that way. All I do know is that I act like a giggly Britney fan every time he's around. Without the giggling part. Or being the Britney fan. I'm sure someone out there knows what I mean.
I also cannot help but wonder if this is my subconcious joinging in on the whole Valentine's cliche that is just around the corner. Because - of course - it is wrong, strange, unheard of, down-right illegal to be a happy single person on the 14th of Febuary. Thank god I'm not working that day - I can do all the stuff I want to do without having to watch people recieving giant bouquets of roses from men they were complaining about, and wondering if they should leave them or not for the first 13 days of the month.
Of course, it could also be because this guy just has the most beautiful eyes...