Inbetween Days

Every time I meet a girl I really like I jinx myself by talking about it incessantly. I tell everyone because I can't control my enthusiasm, and I get all giddy, like a little kid at Christmas, and then immediately discover that the relationship is doomed. Never talk about a good thing, that's my rule, because as soon as you start patting yourself on the back it's gone, before you know what happened.

I'm not going to do it this time. I'm not going tell you that I've been chasing this girl for two months, that every time I see her smile the compliments come gushing out of me because she is that gorgeous (not to mention unobtainable), and thus any flirtation is harmless (and neurosis free) because it's not going to work anyway.

I'm not going to tell you that she gave me her number last Friday, and tonight we had our first "date," just talking at a cafe over lattes and pastry. I'm not going to tell you that afterwards we sat in Union Square on the most beautiful night, both of us in t-shirts, discussing where we saw ourselves in five years, while we shared an earphone and listened to her favorite Cure song on her IPOD.

I'm not going to tell you how sweet it was.

I'm not.