ExposedNYC

Sometimes you meet someone and want to scream from the rooftops how wonderful they are. Your cheeks flush involuntarily as you gush about him to your girlfriends. You know every line he’s said to you, can quote every text message verbatim, and have maybe even plastered his picture across your desktop as a screensaver.

But then there are other times you want to keep it all to yourself. You want to sit silently on the subway, eyes closed, while just the thought of him leaning in to kiss you makes your heart race. You cling to every shred of information that you’ve collected, relishing each piece for a moment before placing it at the base of a growing pedestal.

Trying to describe them feels like trying to paint your living room using a set of watercolors. The words just don’t do justice when spoken aloud. How can you explain that the simple existence of a man able to appreciate both sports and fine arts does more to restore your faith than a Virgin Mary materializing in the hair in your shower drain.

Sometimes it’s more fun not to, because chances are he’s not perfect. Sometimes you just need to believe in a little magic, the same way I ignored for years that the Tooth Fairy and my mom had suspiciously similar handwriting. Sometimes you don’t want to dissect a man’s every molecule, or even enjoy the validation of telling the world that an amazing man is interested in little old me.

In all fairness, silence can also be a safety net. It’s the reason why I never tell my mom about a first date- because I don’t want to face the embarrassment of explaining later what went wrong, or worse, how it was amazing but apparently one-sided because I never heard from him again.

Just for now, I’m going to relish screaming on the inside while living in silent, smitten serenity.

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