So maybe you see her at the mall.
Maybe you see her at the bar.
The restaurant, the trail, the market.
And all of a sudden where doesn’t matter half as much as who.
Who is the one you let go; who is the one who got away.
She looks good, too—
–actually, she looked good when you had her, Romeo.
Now she’s beyond.
So you’re standing there, slack-jawed and broken hearted, and you’re wondering how-in-the-hell you can make up for whatever it is you did to end it in the first place.
You’re standing at the base of a mountain this time, boys; here are a couple of tips to make the climb easier.
-Don’t apologize.
Not right away; don’t get me wrong, you’ve got a lot of “I’m sorry’s” ahead. But standing there, looking her in her beautiful blue or brown or green eyes, reminding her of what an asshole you are—
–not a good idea.
-Don’t compliment her.
Excessively—anything more than “You look good” translates directly to “I-would-like-to-sleep-with-you-again.”
-Don’t push.
“Let’s do dinner tomorrow” might be a little much. (Gauge this based on whether or not she slaps you after you say hello.)
Pump the brakes, playboy; maybe offer her your number; tell her you’d love to catch up over coffee sometime.
The key here is the ‘sometime’—as in sometime of her choosing.
And then—
–take a breath—
–look her in her beautiful blue or brown or green eyes—
(Because if this doesn’t work, you’re about to let the best thing that ever happened to you walk away.)
(Again.)
–and say goodbye.
You read that right, guys—
–turn your sorry ass around, and let her go.
The play is that you hope you’ve peaked her interest.
You’ve showed her you’ve changed, you’ve grown; you’ve evolved from that Neanderthal you used to be.
You’ve created a little mystery, and, ideally, left her wondering what the hell is so fabulous that you would turn your back on her beautiful ass.
You’re not atop the Himalayas yet, brave explorer;
but, by the time she calls, you’ll be a hell of a lot closer to the summit than the bottom.
