a not so proud moment:

Yesterday I was on the third floor of my library scanning the shelves for non-fiction books on a certain topic I’d been asked to research. I’ve dubbed it the “serious floor” because that’s where the majority of the studying and research takes place. My forays to the non-fiction section are so infrequent that there are still sections of the floor I haven’t noticed.

As I was going between shelves, I noticed a room called the “Historical Room” off the beaten path. There were vases adorning the windows of this room and beautiful woodwork as well as a gigantic bookshelf. Surprised to see that not all the books were kept out where I was standing, I decided to venture over and get a closer look.

On my way, I glanced to the right and noticed a very attractive woman sitting at one of the tables off toward the back. She and I made brief eye contact and I wondered if she actually found me attractive or if she was simply reacting to that intuitive feeling we experience when someone is drooling in our general direction. Then I noticed the guy sitting across from her and headed for the Historical Room.

It was a writer’s and reader’s dream, bearing signs that said things like “No talking allowed” and forbidding noise above low levels. One sign assured anyone interested in sitting in there that the room was for serious studying only. I glanced inside and noticed more people that I expected to see. I had nothing to write or read with me and so I made a mental note to check the room out next time I came.

As I walked away from the room, I glanced to my left and saw her again. She paid no attention to me at all this time. Definitely a case of reacting to the feeling of being watched. Then I noticed the way she looked at the guy sitting across from her. He’s probably an asshole, I told myself. Isn’t that usually the case?

I continued my search, finally settling one a specific book that I felt had the best chance of yielding results and wound up walking past her one more time. Now she was standing up in preparation to leave and I tried very hard not to stare at what turned out to be a great ass. Still, there was noting wrong with hanging back and enjoying the view.

I watched them walk out and saw them holding hands. The stars in her eyes were matched by his and he definitely looked like a guy who had problem finding women.

“Ah,” I said and put it out of my mind. I headed to the second floor where all the fiction is located and found a Stephen King audio book to listen to in my car on the way home. As I took the stairs, they were there again, hands tightly clasped in each other’s, the only two people in the world at that moment.

I looked away and headed for the self- checkout thingee. Outside, the wind had started blowing a chilly night air and I was glad I’d worn a jacket. I thought about going for a quick walk on the grounds when I saw them yet again. This time he was walking behind her, arms wrapped around her mid-section as they duck walked, their faces plastered with smiles and their eyes dancing around in their heads.

“Well, aren’t they just so fucking happy,” I said.

Carrying my oversized book under my arm, I walked around them and to my car. When I got home, I asked myself what was wrong with me. Why had I reacted that way? I haven’t looked upon a happy couple with envy and disgust since I was in my twenties. Back then, I had company. My friend Al and I would look at them and he’d said, “Well, ain’t he the lucky motherfucker?” That was before he got married and I wound up in a decent relationship.

Did I react that way because I was attracted to the woman? I don’t think so. Maybe it was because earlier that day I’d watched the episode of Lost where the character of Desmond finds out the love of his life had waited eight years for him. Maybe the rush of emotion I’d experienced during that moment had brought back some things I’d vowed to myself before realizing what I fool I’d been. Maybe I brought my regrets with me to the third floor of the library and anyone who looked even remotely happy would have caused the same reaction.

Or maybe I was just jealous that this younger couple with the stars in their eyes and the world in their hands still had a chance to get it right~