Girl

“What’s in a name? That which we call a rose
By any other name would smell as sweet.”

Romeo and Juliet (II, ii, 1-2)

Last week I ran an errand for the office to deliver some time-sheets to the medical payroll office. My director told me to make sure they were time stamped before I submitted them. When I arrived, there was no one at the window so I was a little confused as to how to do this. I lingered for a moment, trying to figure out what she meant by time-stamping. The next moment a girl walked up with a stack of envelopes. With my attention was elsewhere, I watched as she began processing her documents. I casually asked her if she knew how to time-stamp a time sheet. She showed me with thoughtful instruction and I proceeded to process and submit the time sheets before walking away. As I walked, my thoughts returned and it struck me: that girl was breathtaking. Although I didn’t take time to appreciate it in my busied state, her beauty was instantly apparent the moment I looked into her eyes. I walked down the hall and reflected. Beauty moves. It tugs at something deep inside you. Whether it’s art, nature, complexity or simplicity, it transports you to a better place. Her physiognomy held a child like innocence. Her blonde hair was wispy and pure, streaming and sun kissed. She was tall, but not overwhelmingly so. There was a delicacy in her figure, womanly yet youthful. Her eyes seemed to capture the simplicity of life. As I was reflecting, I felt compelled to do something, to obey those unwieldy passions. Her presence incited an irrational passion within me. I wanted to recapture that. I had the urge to turn, walk up to her with a decisive confidence, and ask for her name. I wanted to revel in another moment of her presence and ask if she was free that evening for dinner. While my reserved judgement told me to tame such responses, my youthful zeal demanded that I act now, that the opportunities of love beg not to be overlooked. Hume said that reason must be a slave to the passions. Since when did I begin believing otherwise?

As I walked, I continued to think about our exchange. I held her image in mind and let the pleasant and uplifting emotions it generated pour over me. I told myself that I would see her again, that I would not forget such a face and that I would work to find her again. I believe, and life has taught me truly, that we attract what we think about. I know from experience that what the heart desires most, if we act honestly, it attains. As predicted, I did find her again.

I write this because it’s not often that a girl has this kind of affect on me. I admit that there are many beautiful girls out there, but it’s rare that I’m left with a longing that lingers after such an encounter.

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