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There was a time that I was once traveling on the local county bus on some obscure random sunny day, going somewhere outside the city limits for I forget the specific reason at the time, but anyway, there I was. A youth on the bus. As I neared my approaching destination, getting ready to stand, in walks this absolutely gorgeous, vision of brunette perfection, not movie starlet-striking, but so altogether comely, girl-next-door-looking, a very cute student, by the looks of it (university age). Instantly floors me to bend back down to my seat.
I was so starstruck by her hidden beauty, it seemed nobody else noticed her but me; or maybe, I just came to key in on her intently that anyone else who happened to be onboard simply just vanished from my peripherary. I missed my stop. I knew this. Realized it a few seconds later, and thought to myself, "If I'm already going to be walking back, what's a few extra miles?" So, I stayed on until the end of the line, where she got off, and I didn't know quite how to proceed in introducing myself, if at all.
She promptly exited, exchanged a few words with the driver, assumingly thanking him, but it was in a foreign Eastern European dialect that might been Greek, Belarusian or something I had no idea of what it was in actuality, and my just sank. How could I convey my instant-smittenness to a woman if she is not able to grasp my meaning's intent past the remarking 'Hello'?
So, in the end of this tale, I just stood there while she walked off into the distance carrying her books, meanwhile I was still nervously contemplating whether to run after her or not. It was agonizing to admit defeat to yourself, just because you think you know you can't get through to the person on the other side. I've since learned, and hold to this day, you always gotta try, man; by God and by mind, if you have your heart set on something, you have get to reach out and go get it.
If only I had a lifeline that day.
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As human beings, our greatness lies not so much in being able to remake the world (that is the myth of the Atomic Age) as in being able to remake ourselves. —Mohandas K. Gandhi
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