Looking out the window, I allow my vivid imagination run loose and free, I give it full reign to once again, grab ahold of me.
I am sitting on the bleachers and the home team is fighting for every foot, every yard of ground, doing their level best to achieve victory. My role is simple, I am the bench warmer, the little guy, not big enough in physical stature to be considered a player.
So here I sit, watching you, and occasionally a passing freight train will rattle by to break the monotony of sports and games I cannot play. You are a huge part of my world, a world that I am not brave enough, to share with you.
The wooden bench-seats are so uncomfortable, I can feel the cold wind off the bay in the late afternoon. I wish it were summer, the sweet odor of tomatoes filling the air from the Hunt’s Cannery on C street, a cold root beer at the A&W on Harder Road.
Have to be honest, I did not come here today to watch the game, I came to watch you. I sit in the stands, and the team scores, you get all excited and jump up and down, you beat your Pom-Pom’s together and smile your wonderful smile.
This is why I am here, just to sit and watch you.
Because I am so shy, so introverted, that I can not even walk up to you and start up a conversation. After each game, without fail, my heart breaks just a little … Not so much because we won or lost, but because I do not have the courage to be in your presence.
Don’t seem to worry about the girls that much any more. It seems as if all my life, my heart has yearned for a thing I cannot have. Today I look out my window, and all I see is a slow falling rain and gray sky.
What a beautiful mess I am in.