Just add water.

Do you know that kind of sweet ache that comes when you think you're in love and she doesn't know? It rests somewhere between your heart and stomach and it begins to expand when she even looks in your direction. When she sends you a note, the feeling moves up and pushes your mouth into a stupid grin that you can't get rid of. That is, until you over-analyze it enough to write a blog about.

It sucks, but I know that any suave goodness that I have gets paralyzed when I'm convinced that I genuinely like the gal. It has gotten better with time. The every-dayness of relationships (and potential relationships) has blunted the exaggerration of un-suaveness, but the whole 'I don't care = relaxed = she loves me' vs. 'I adore her = nervous = she thinks I'm a big nerd' problem seems to keep cropping up with every new possibility. Perhaps this is the point in my life where I finally have things together enough to grow a relationship au naturel.

I'll simply let the organic experience unfold. Yes, while my heart beats visibly through my shirt.