risk, and the color orange.

Lately, love and all of its potential glory has been pushing against the force of my hands, like magnet against magnet. My coffee stained hands are always trying to push hope and possibility into the locked chest. 

I was just sitting at the bar with my favorite barista who has been out of the country for the past week reading a newspaper article about love. One of his customers made his way to the bar and was seeing his friend for the first time since returning. Customer's face lit up because, though it had only been seven days, customer missed his friend. Barista's face could see customer's joy, and met it with a smile. I had just been privy to a moment, a sincere exchange between two people. 

I am not a good matchmaker, like in the movies. I don't like pressuring people to do things. I don't like meddling. I like watching life happen and seeing goodness unfold in front of me that hasn't been tainted by my sway. But I have also noticed that forwardness doesn't come easily to a lot of people, including myself, and insecurity is always battling the part of us that's willing to take that risk, trying to convince us that we have too much to lose. But when someone takes a risk, and others get to see something real between two people, hope reemerges. This is why I am becoming an advocate for risk.

To me, the mutual attraction factor seems to be the most difficult. There have been some middle aged truck drivers interested in me, for sure. But I haven't wanted to go there. And there have been a plethora of men that have peaked my interest, but for whatever reason, I failed to effectively peak theirs. Perhaps it was my loud laugh, or (as a college classmate told me) my tendency to make things really awkward. Or maybe it was simply their own fear. Whatever the reason, nothing. 

Seeing two people out there that maybe, just maybe, are interested in each other, brings to surface that hope that's been hanging out in the chest. Seeing neither of them do a thing pushes it right back down. Since I am pushing it down most days anyway, outside help isn't welcome. Seeing someone take a risk to get to know someone else, even if it isn't me, is very welcome. It's helpful. And for that, I will get involved, if just a little. I will meddle, if it means helping someone see that they are great, and that risk is worth it. And this involvement, this speech I seem to be spouting at others on a regular basis, has been shifting something on my insides as well.

I walked into the same coffee shop a few days ago. It was hot hot hot outside, and I didn't want to turn on my AC. I was hoping for my corner table. Odds were in my favor, as there was only one customer and one barista occupying the cafe. Alas, my table was occupied by the lone customer, who happened to be a beautiful dark haired bearded man with a ring free left hand. Oh man. 

We both stayed until close. I definitely checked him out as he made his way to the counter, and bathroom, and then back to his corner seat. He was probably aware. We both left at the same time. I made it outside without my wallet or my keys, as I was a little distracted. He got onto his orange motorcycle. I watched. He was definitely aware. I retrieved my keys, made my way to my car, which happened to be right passed him, smiled and exclaimed that I liked the way he looked, sort of.  The words that came from my mouth were "I like the orange," but I am pretty sure he heard what I meant.