Tuesday, October 19, 2010

I'm sitting opposite a most beautiful girl in the bus.

She's not slim or tall, but her face... is totally... I don't know... flawless? Proportioned?

I'm rather mesmerised.

For a moment I thought she had the most beautiful face I had ever seen.

In my heart I wanted to tell her how beautiful I thought she looked.

When I finally managed to look away, I remembered I felt the same way in February about another girl.

Ah yes. The girl I first met on the day I saw (what was then to me) the most beautiful sunset in my life.

But I remembered that I had made a promise back then to never reward physical beauty again.


So I kept quiet, and watched silently as she got up and alighted from the bus a stop before me.



Want to hear what happened in February?

3 comments:

  1. That was my wife! Dad

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  2. I was once sitting in a bar in Kentish Town, and a man - who was on his way out: that is essential to the story, in that he was not, repeat NOT trying to pick me up - whispered in my ear that he thought I had the best arse in north London.

    I can't tell you how that thought has sustained me through many a long night.

    So good on yer, Justin, for your efforts at rewarding physical beauty. Don't give up on them!

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  3. But... How do i do that without making girls feel that they must look good to be valued?

    ReplyDelete