TexanAvenger

Alright, I'm 19. Why the hell do girls make my brain turn to mush? I've recently found a lot of confidence lately and it's been helping enormously in every arena of my life save this one. It's like I'm Superman (and who's to say I'm not...?) and nearly every other member of the opposite sex is kryptonite. Talk about a pain in the ass trying to walk around Metropolis...

Alright, here's the story. A couple of weeks ago I got a girl's phone number. Big deal, I know... But I never had before. With me, relationships always just kind of happened out of friendships. It's always been a really easy take-off because nearly every one of my friends is female and we generally get along really well. They were never actively instigated.

This isn't to say that I don't know the girl at all, I still don't think I'm up to that. I've met her at a few parties and whatnot, and the usual flirting occurs that usually happens between a girl and I. That is, she flirts heavily because she's interested (confirmed fervently through mutual friends), while I blush, can't make eye contact, and laugh nervously... All while I spurt strings of mono-syllabic words to form the kind of phrases one usually hears in a place named something like "Happy Hills." Yeah... it's a gift.

So now I have this girl's number... Correction, numbers. She gave me her home and cell number because she told me she really wanted me to call. This is cool with me, because I have every intention of calling her and asking her out because she's awesome and I don't want to pass this up.

So I pull out my phone, punch the tiny, tiny buttons, occasionally have to backtrack because, while my fingers aren't fat, neither are the buttons on my bite-size cell phone (it seemed so cool when I bought it...). So, after checking the number against my slip of paper so I know I won't accidently call King's House of Earthly Desire, and clearing my throat so I can say, "Hey *name withheld*, it's Oz." in the coolest manner possible, I go to hit that positron-sized 'send' button. That, my friends, is where the issue at hand lies...

I freeze up. I sweat like a large, hairy man from Kyrgyzstan in a sauna. I get as nervous as the new kid come time to shower in the locker room after gym class. My throat constricts, my pulse quickens, my stomach verbally threatens to jump out of my mouth if I come another centimeter closer to that itsy-bitsy button.

Am I scared of this girl? Not really. Am I afraid of being rejected? Not particulary (unless I happen to wait a little longer...). It's as if a beautiful, intelligent, witty, funny, slightly exotic, eclectic, and downright cool girl is the trigger that turns off my higher brian functions. I don't even know how good of an excuse that is though... Ug McRockface can go club himself a girl, while I can't even ask one to a club. And dear god, don't even mention being in person around this girl. The sheer volume of pheromones is enough to knock me off-balance, even forgetting who it is that they're coming from.

So I'm at a standstill here. I can't get myself to call, my body undergoes a mutiny against my brain, but I really want to call. Nevermind really needing to call before she totally gives up on me...

Yeah, I know all guys fall to pieces around a great girl. Yeah, I need to just shut up and punch 'send.' Even if I have to try a couple of times because I miss that microscopic target. I know I can be a really good guy, I'm still on really good terms with all my old girlfriends and they occasionally wonder aloud what exactly wasn't awesome about the relationship... So I'm not even worried about that.

I just felt like I needed to share this little embarassing detail of my life with the rest of the world. Thanks for listening, begin the ridicule.