Tonight I went to a book launch. It was for a friend’s partner who has become quite successful, and it took place in a gorgeous, historic theatre in town. I had read other books of his, and find his writing to be fluid and touching. I was looking forward to meeting with a group of friends who were also going, and I wanted to get a signed copy of the novel for my visiting mum who could not attend. At least, that’s what I told myself.
Here, well, here I can admit that I mainly wanted to go so that I could see the guy I am completely crushing on. He manages the theatre, and works most nights so I was sure he’d be there. How sad is that?
I mean, I did want all those things I talked about, but knowing that I might see him, and (godforbid) possibly even talk to him made me giddy and excited in a way that all the other draws just couldn’t.
So I bought the book, got dropped off, and wandered in searching for my friends I was to meet. And by ‘search for my friends’ I expect you to read ‘scope out the joint for any sign of him’.
Standing in the lobby, I ran into a couple of friends who had just had an adorable little puffball of cute, who was cooing and smiling with reckless abandon. These hippie friends of mine produce some damn fine offspring, so I stayed and chatted with them whilst making baby faces, and nodding sagely along with author’s comments before he went on stage. Of course, the whole time I was doing Navy Seal scans of the room for a Him sighting. When did I become this girl? Oh. Right. Always. I am something of a relationship voyeur. I prefer to watch from a distance. The sight of a guy I like can tide me over for days. I like to picture in my head all the things I would say and do, and all the things he would say and do, that would be cute and flirty. You know, and then a white unicorn would show up and offer us a ride into the sunset and so on.
The reality? I saw him. I got the flip flops in my tummy, and he didn’t see me. Fine, I say to myself. I’m here all night. Try again. Wave at least. Wave! Be cute! Smile and wave!
After the reading and Q & A, I took a place in the long line-up to get my copy signed. My group of friends stood to the side to wait for me while they debated if they wanted a Blizzard™ (Canadian ice cream treat) or beer afterwards. Then I saw him. Again. He was obviously working (carrying cables and microphones to and fro), but he was there. Time to whip out the big guns. I waited for him to look up so I could wave.
In total I waved three times. Nary a response. Was it me? Am I not waving enough? Was someone standing in front of me? At one point he walked passed me, and I got a case of nerves because I had finally waved in his direction and he hadn’t seen and had walked elsewhere. I felt like an ass. I felt like a Blizzard™. And considering I’m lactose intolerant, this means I was feeling mildly suicidal. Why do I let things like that get to me? I doubt he did it on purpose. He’s quite a nice guy. We talk on facebook from time to time. I just wanted a reason to interact with him in person, but instead I just looked like a spaz. Not that he saw that.
All in all it makes me wish I didn’t have such expectations. I wish I had been able to go to this event just expecting to hear an amazing writer, to meet up with my friends and enjoy a beer, and to get a book autographed for my mum. But instead I turned it into this epic, “this could be the night he walks straight over to me and declares his deep feelings for me”, and end scene. The curtain dropping, happily ever after. And really, was I expecting that? Kind of. I just know that I am getting tired of building things up so much in my head, and them never living up to my expectations. I really have to stop doing that. After all, it puts a lot of strain on not just me, but on him. Does he realize the expectations I have of him? It would probably freak him out. We’ve never even had one on one phone calls or talks or anything other than facebook chat.
Man, I need to stop doing this to myself.
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