roses are red...

so earlier this evening i got a text from a number i didn't know and it went a little something like: 'hey tara, you gave me your number in the wilk a year ago, i came across your note while moving, figured it wouldn't hurt to see if you were around...'

a year (for reals?) ago, kristi and i were sitting upstairs in the wilk, above the terrace, i don't even remember why. i just remember that there was this way hot guy at a table about 15 feet away studying with a portly friend. after like 20 minutes of debating and a dare i think, finally on our way walking out, i slipped the note next to him on his table. it had a cheesy non rhyming roses-are-red poem. and my number. and i hoped and prayed that his homely friend wasn't close enough to think it might be for him. i've never done that before, never did it after that....

where is that tara? where's the confidence, the ambition, the 'that boy will call me if i just leave my number and he watches me walk away' assuredness? now i'm the insecure, settling type. apparently. anywho... we have a lunch date this week. a blind date that wasn't blind. weird? sure. but if something good were to happen, think of the awesome story...

i don't usually get what i want. apparently you have to go for those things, not hesitate, act in the moment.... i tend to hold back at the most inconvenient times, and regret it hours, days, weeks later... (i regret it, but i lost my chance)

i'm getting back to that tara. i'm making decisions. i can make things happen. i can see myself.