If you've seen me ragged and a bit tired looking, or wondered why I'm not so available this quarter, that would be the reason.
I find myself rushed and in constant motion recently, as if I'm "taking polaroid pictures that are never in focus just to look at when they finally slow down." I admit that I've ignored more problems than I've solved, but to stop and focus on them means stagnation, and I cannot afford that right now.
In this, being single is more of a blessing than I ever thought. I've mentioned here and there in comments on this LJ that I'm incredibly happy, but that's mostly because I don't have the drain of needing to focus attention on a significant other. I'm so far from looking for a girlfriend that it boggles my mind.
That said, though, I was taking a ten-minute break from work to go pick up six of the books I need for my final project in my Mesoamerican Religions--Before the Encounter with the Europeans: Cosmovision and Ceremonial Centers class, and was walking over to the main library. I knew that there would be a load of books to bring back, so I wasn't carrying anything over, and aimed for the side door.
As I entered the outer doors, the inner doors opened across from me.
In the twenty-foot-or-so distance between the outer doors and the inner doors is a somewhat narrow hall that passes the stairs. There are rugs that shift around throughout the day, and are a bit wet on days like this, where people come in from the snow/rain/hail/whatever is falling from the sky and drag their sorry, dirty feet across the rugs. The floor is slightly ramped between the outside and inside doors, going up into the library. It takes about three seconds and ten steps, I imagine, to cross the distance and get fully inside the library.
But not today. Not for me. Not on your life.
Instead, this time the journey took what felt like an eternity, because as those doors opened across from me, a beautiful woman stepped into the entranceway with me, aiming to go out the door I had so recently come in.
I was enraptured. It was one of those moments when things slow down in the movies, a soft filter goes onto the lens, and music begins to play. My feet continued to move, but my entire body was involved in the watching of this woman. I'm not sure how to describe it outside that.
I can describe her in detail, because though I only saw her for a moment as we passed, I can recall every nuance of her physical form, every item of clothing and jewlery, and each lovely curve of her face.
The thing I noticed most was the way her hair framed her face. It was a lovely, soft, wavy-curly sort of hair, light blonde in colour. It was cut chin-length, bounced with her step, and had a scent of lilacs that I caught as she passed. Her eyes were a beautiful blue-green, a shade I had never seen before in anyone's eyes. There was a sparkling radiance in those eyes that I saw before her eyes ever met mine, and when they did, it was barely a flicker. But the flicker brought a smile to dance in that radiance, even though she quickly looked away.
Her lips were upturned in a smile, a moist, soft red colour that lightly matched the soft rouge on her cheeks, so subtle I couldn't tell if it was makeup or reality. Her mouth was small, but fit her face, matching up with the small nose that perched above. I caught a glimpse of a gold earring in her left ear as the wind between the doors caught her hair.
Her jacket was blue, and her pants were red, both deep, rich shades of their respective colours. The jacket had a high collar and zipped up the front, but she had left the collar open four inches from the top, and on the right side it fell open far enough for me to see the gentle curve of her neck. The tennis shoes she wore had seen better days, but were not ragged, just worn. They were once white and blue, but were now more of a gray and blue. The soles of the shoes were worn down slightly and yellow lines ran between certain treads.
In sum, the girl was a sudden vision of beauty to me, and I could not take my eyes off her.
As we passed in the hallway, my eyes drifting from eyes to lips, my foot caught the rug, and I stumbled (but did not fall) forward and to my right, against the wall.
As if noting an unimportant event in passing, I saw the smile tug at the left corner of her mouth as her head came around to glance at me once more. She continued to walk down the ramp to the door I had come in, and turned her head only as far as she needed in order to glance at me. I caught the sparkles in her eyes, dancing with her smile as her hair swayed back and forth, the curls stretching and contracting with her steps and the movement of her head.
And then I heard her giggle.
It was a sweet sound, innocent and pure, and one of the most beautiful things I've heard in my entire life. Perhaps it was only three syllables, but they are replaying in my mind as if they were the most important sounds I will ever hear.
Somehow, I think it really is the most important thing I've ever heard, or ever will hear.
She did not stop, though, and exited the door I had come in, which was still slowly swinging shut.
And I entered the library and borrowed my books, thinking about this strange woman I will never see again.
Is this entry true?