A Few Leaves from The Diary of Jane

Sunday
There’s this guy I know from the church. He seems intriguing. I don’t know his name but there’s certainly something in him which I find mysterious. Most of the times he appears pre-occupied. He comes alone, departs alone and doesn’t talk much. He even prays in silence; I wonder if God understands his wordless prayers. He doesn’t even close his eyes, as if he has no respect for the custom. People like him should better be atheists. He doesn’t bother much about what he’s wearing. Today he showed up in a checkered blue-black shirt and Bermuda shorts. But the worst part was: he was in sandals. What sort of a sane person does that? I’m sure there are a lot of losers like him wandering the streets, waiting for a chance to be with someone like me; like that’ll ever happen. What a loser!


Tuesday
I saw the guy from the church in market today; not that he was buying or anything, he works at the general store instead. I always knew that there was something that caused him to be the way he is. I know he’s my age, at least he looks so. What could’ve been the reason behind his working at the store? Probably his dad’s a drinker or -god forbid- is dead. He didn’t seem to recognize me. We’ve seen each other many times in the church, but I wonder if he was ashamed of the difference in our positions: his behind the counter and mine on the other side of it. That could be the only explanation of why he didn’t indulge in small talk with me. Most guys his age would give away their comforts to talk to me.
I don’t know why, but I certainly feel for him in a way a girl would feel for a boy she liked. If only I could hold him close to me and tell him that whatever he was, I would be there for him through thick and thin. If I could have him lay his head in my lap and caress his soft hair, I’d not feel this sadness I do now. Poor guy, I long for him.


Thursday
I went to the store again today, hoping I’d find him. Sadly he was not there. I asked for him and found out that people refer to him as JD. He was on a leave and he would be back tomorrow: the noon shift I was told. I will go there again tomorrow, not to let him know that I am fond of him or anything because that is the guys’ job; we girls just sit pretty and have them do the hard work: that’s the way this works. I will go there just to look at how he’s doing and stare into his deep blue eyes and gratify my eyes in the process, give him signals that will prompt him to talk to me: that’ll be the icing on the cake.


Friday
I was dressed my best today. I went to the store, right when I expected him to be at the counter. He was there, much to my joy. I waited for some time to let the other customers depart. I wanted his attention to be entirely subdued by my presence: that was plan A. As soon as the others were all gone, I went and stood in front of him, peering into his eyes, searching for the answers that had eluded my intellect. Actually that was my way of tantalizing him. He looked at me and waited for me to say something. After a while his gaze gave way and he looked away. Looking down he asked me what I wanted. I waited for him to look at me again, and gave him an inviting smile. He smiled at me, not in response to my smile but out of shyness and embarrassment. I told him I couldn’t find certain items in my list and asked him to help me out looking for them in the stalls. I led him to the stalls and he followed me. I’d look into his eyes and make him look away and then ask for a random product and make him find it, look into his eyes again and smile at his discovery; this was my little game. I did this several times, making sure he understood my signals. I swear I’d have continued this business for quite some time had a group of people not come in, forcing him to attend the counter again.
I am pretty sure he now has the knowledge that I want him to possess.


Sunday
What a loser. I’d have told him to go get a life had he waited long enough. JD met me in the church today, dressed all smart and smiled at me. Not only did he smile at me, he said hello. How did the wuss get all the courage to act in this manner? When I did not reply and walked past him, he stopped me and said he wanted to speak. I waited and he told me that he’d seen me at the store; as if I didn’t know. He asked me if I had been passing him signals and said that he wondered if I liked him. He must sure have overestimated himself; how could a girl like me like someone like him, why would a girl like me pass signals? I told him I was not interested and he said it was fine with him. How could it be fine with him? He should have shown at least some wistfulness, some disappointment. But he did not show any. He is too full of himself. How could it ever be fine with anyone who could not get to be with a girl like me? Guys like him do not deserve the company of girls. I knew from the beginning he was no more than a worthless loafer in the search of a girl to be with.