tuscaloosa > personals > missed connections
Percentages - Midtown--A Fashionable Neighborhood m4w
Date: 2010-08-15, 1:53PM CST
To tell you the truth, you're not that good-looking--you don't stand out in any way. Your clothes are nothing special. The back of your hair is still bent out of shape from sleep. Today, I tell you that I passed the 100% perfect girl on the street. Today, here, I let you know that there is nothing I can remember about you--no details beyond your hair which frays from your head like a knot. My hair does not do this--it goes nowhere, even if you run a hand through it. I cannot remember the color of your eyes, let alone the shape. They were round, as eyes often are, though I have heard eyes described as almonds. When I was a child I would draw faces in my notebook. I would start with the nose, looping downward. I would hook two curls on the side of it to represent nostrils. Then I would add the eyes--the shape of fillers in plywood. Forgive me for talking about construction. The faces were always hideous: I could never draw anything beautiful. I would try, but the eyes would be too wide, too surprised, to terrified of what they look like. The mouth would be too large for the face, like a pair of wax lips, like when we would make faces as children, pretending we are monkeys, apes, curling our bottom lip downwards and licking our tongue upwards. We could kiss like this, once, as a joke. Ha Ha. You will find that funny because you are the 100% perfect girl. You are the 100% perfect girl for me. I would tell you a story: it would start "To tell you the truth," and end "A sad story, don't you think?" To tell you the truth, you are beautiful. You stand out in every way. Your clothes are special. The back of your hair is not bent out of shape from sleep. Today, I passed you and you are the 100% perfect girl. Today, I want you to know that I remember everything about you: hair, my hair, eyes, almonds. I would say what a wonderful thing it is to find and be found by your 100% perfect other. It's a miracle, a cosmic miracle. You are the 100% perfect girl for me. I will come down with the flu. You will come down with the flu. I will tell you that there is nothing I can remember about you. The fact that you cannot remember anything about me proves that I am the 100% perfect boy for you. I will ignore all connections. I will ignore all percentages less than 100. A 95% perfect girl will kiss me on the lips and I will look the other way. I will wonder who won the baseball game that evening despite not liking baseball. I will sabotage everything. I will draw your face as best as I can. I will start with the lips. I will not draw the rest. This is how percentages work. A sad story, don't you think?
- Location: Midtown - A Fashionable Neighborhood
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