I sometimes think I'm so lucky to be so scared.

I mean, I can obviously daydream. I can think up of things that I want to do, perhaps make sure that the plan's big enough and wild enough, and imagine everybody's reaction. Grinning, perhaps. A lot of murmurs about how stupid I am, or a lot of applause because it's something quite incredible, whatever incredible means nowadays.

But that's all that I'll do. I'll only daydream, make it part of a story, but never do anything about it even if I actually want to. It'll just stay as a fragment of my imagination.

I will not start researching about what certain kinds of flowers mean, about the difference between a rose, three roses and a dozen roses, about what it could possibly say about my intentions.

I will not trace my steps, wonder about the time, and think about what exactly I'll be doing once I'm there. Neither will I worry about grabbing their attention, or about those last-minute changes that can actually ruin all those plans, or about the people that just happen to be there, but might start a terrible wildfire.

I will not rehearse everything in my head the day before, and perhaps ask for support from my friends. I will not think about what I'll do once I get there.

I will not walk the corridors looking goofy, earning stares from those seated on the benches, making them think about what I'm doing with plants in August.

I will not pass by the door, look through the window, and walk away scared. Although being scared is something I shouldn't really be doing at this point. I will not enter that door, either.

I will not stand awkwardly and say my intentions to the unsuspecting, but very much anticipated, audience. It will make things as romantic as cheese, but no.

I will not profess my feelings for you.

I will not walk away, thinking I've done my part, waiting for the answer I've long been waiting, even if it's quite a long shot from the start. I will not answer any of their questions, even if I'm very much excited about what I just did. I will not even think about it at all.

I will not deal with the resulting fallout. Not with the resulting word war. Not with the rumors. Not with one side of the story, or my side of the story. Not with her opinions, her friends' opinions, nor my friends' opinions. Besides, if I'm to tell her something, I should do it when nobody's looking.

That's how calculating I am, perhaps. And that's why I never get anything done, either.

Go figure.