Dear Mr. Attractive.

Dear attractive young man that stood behind me in line,
You are attractive. I smiled at you in hopes that you would say something. You didn’t. I sat and watched the tennis match on the big screen, just in case you wanted to ask me how I felt about the game. You didn’t. I smiled again. You did too. They called my name, my food was up, and I had to go. You waved as I left. I almost forgot that I was wearing my work uniform and that I looked like a hot mess. But, attractive man, I’ll never see you again. Goodbye. You were very attractive. Maybe next time you’ll say something.
Why are people, myself included, so frightened of speaking up and taking a little risk when it comes to love? Why is it so hard to say ‘hi, I’m Megan.’ Alas. It’s hard. Risk is, well, risky. The choices we make everyday seem to amount to nothing in the end, but in reality are huge. Maybe you, Mr. Attractiveness, were supposed to be something to me. But, I’ll never know because I didn’t say anything. You didn’t say anything. So nothing happened. Why do we all hide behind our fears? Why does the fear of the unknown seem to control us? Eleanor Roosevelt once said, “Do one thing every day that scares you.” I’m taking Mrs. Roosevelt’s challenge.
Mr. Attractive, next time I see you, I will say something.
With love,
Megan