This is my first attempt at any romantic writing longer than a paragraph, that isn't a song. I'm still working on part, so here, fresh out of the oven, is part 1.
I’ve always been a weird person. On the outside I’m quite normal; plaid shirt and brown cargo shorts, barely-there mustache, and a healthy 5 foot 9 and almost 200 pounds. Inside, I’m nuts. I’ve been known to scream out songs in the darkness of night for no reason, people watch for entertainment, and intentionally stick my finger in my fish tank to see if they would nibble at me. Needless to say, I’m just outside of the norm. So why should my love life be any different.
It started with a girl named Anna. I was people watching in the park, when she walked by. She stood by, only mere feet away leaning against a tree, sun glimmering in her chestnut hair, as she gabbed on the phone to what I assume was her mom. Her voice elegant, but not snobby; her clothes a simple yet elegantly worn purple skirt that draped to her knees, Nike sneakers and a plain maroon shirt that fit it all together. She caught my eye as did Juliet to Romeo, and I wanted her, but alas, my shy mind retreated and I over-contemplated the rejection I may face. I instead sat by and listened to her talking away into a little cellular device that barely stood more than 3 inches long.
As I listened, I overheard her mentioning something, but I wasn’t sure what. A bunch of numbers. Could it be the other person’s number? No there would be no reason for that, would there? She could easily write it down, she had a pad in the corner pocket of the purse dangling on her thin shoulder, so no it couldn’t possibly be that. But alas, what could it be?
That’s when I realized; she was saying her number.
“…Yeah mom, I’m getting my new phone tomorrow. I already talked to Verizon, they told me my new number will be 555-5413 starting when I pick it up tomorrow…”
It was true! It was her number! But could I really use this to my advantage? Such a sneaky and sly way, I would believe, considering she wasn’t giving me it. Regardless, I wrote it down in case I might want it for future looks (thanks to the notepad feature on my phone), and ever so quietly glided the other way from the bench I sat upon.
It was now the next day, and I knew by now Anna would have gotten her new phone; it was well past 10 at night. I contemplated what to do. I couldn’t simply call her; it would be too weird, even for me. No, I must do something remember able if I had a chance. That’s when the songs began.
I called under *69, in case I failed my plan. To no prevail, I got voicemail. It was unoriginal, not yet changed from the generic “555-5413 cannot pickup” sounds, but it was not going to stop me. I turned my iPod up to full as the beep buzzed, and I played the song “Love, reign over me” by The Who. I decided If I was too shy to speak to her, I’d allow music to do it for me. And this would not be the first time; no, it was just the start of one of the oddest wooing attempts of all time.
Every night, I would call and play a song I believed truly connected my feelings for the girl in the purple skirt that meant love at first sight. I wasn’t even sure why I was truly doing it. Was I really so desperate to show my affections and interest in her that I was to resort to hiding behind the wall of symphony? I did not yet know, but what I did know was that it felt good, and I was not going to stop.
The next day, I was back in the park, nearly forgetting about what I had done last night, when coming around a bend, in what was now a red skirt and pink top, was Anna. No phone this time, instead an iTouch dangling from her side, screen dimmed. I knew not what it said, but I need not read it; the volume spoke, well, volumes. Out from her earphones came
“…Only love, can make it rain, like the sweat of lovers, playing in the fields…”
Roger Daltrey’s voice sprung out like a cavalcade of rain; she enjoyed my serenade enough that as she walks by, clueless of who I am, she serenades the rest of the world with my affection.
