To the maudlin beauty sitting across from me, Brooklyn-bound F, 4pm m4w
You were already sitting on the Brooklyn-bound F, towards the front of the train, when I got on at 42nd street. I had a Judo book in my hand which I attempted to read as I stood in front of you. When a seat directly across from you became open, I sat down- and thus began an eleven-stop odyssey of the two of us trying to pretend like we weren't interested in each other, even though we both were. You looked really sad (though really cute as well), and I wanted to smile and try and send some happiness your way but I wasn't exactly a bundle of joy myself. I was exhausted- I literally could not stop yawning- so much so that I couldn't even focus on either of the books I managed to wrest from my giant backpack.
Anyway-- I wish I had told you how pretty your hair looked- reddish-brown, smooth, gorgeous; maybe it would've cheered you up.
Are things really that bad?
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