But, I digress -- in fact, I do so at the beginning to let you know that there will probably be a lot of that in this entry. Lack of sleep can have that effect.

So anyway. I'd like to tell a story. It's not a very long story, and I'm sure that in one way or another, most everyone should be able to relate to it.

So it's a boy meets girl story. As it happens, boy meets girl in a class. Boy does think girl is quite cute, but learns within the first few classes that she is married. D'oh! Aint that just the way it is?

But, this happened to be a great class, highly interesting, and one in which we often broke up into small discussion groups, usually as a precursor to having a large group discussion. The very pretty girl was in my group, in fact we sat right next to one another in the class.

The weird thing was that I always had some strange feeling she just didn't like me, though I couldn't quite put my finger on why. But generally speaking, while she became good friends with the others in our group, and I became friends with those others -- well, pretty much I would not tend to be someone she'd happened to start a frivolous non-class-related conversation with. And if we did have such a conversation, she generally found a way to cut it short pretty quick.

She wouldn't even bother going after me in arguments as she would with others -- this girl was a freight train of conviction, and I know that generally I'm opinionated enough to make a worthy debate foe. So I just didn't get it -- I was nice to her the whole time, and didn't understand why she never seemed to warm to me.

Well, after the last class, most of us went out with the instructor and had a drink together -- it really was a good group of people. But, however fond we were of one another, the night wore on, and tomorrow's responsibilities loomed ever closer.

As we dwindled down into a smaller and smaller group, the place slowly emptied, and they decided to close early because we were the only people there. I mean, Very Pretty Girl and I were the only two left. I'd thought this somewhat odd myself, except that once we were alone she did say at some point, "You know, I have to admit ... I am really attracted to you..."

Caught me off guard a bit, it did. And here I thought she just hadn't liked me.

I'll spare the sordid details of the rest of the story, mainly because there aren't any. We walked some, talked some more, sat in her truck ... and yeah, that's about it. Yeah, most of my stories do kind of end with a shrug.

But I relate this tale because I think it's indicative of something that happens all the time. It's rather ironic, because we might theorize that being attracted to someone would tend to make you want to be your Best, Cutest, Funniest version of yourself whenever that person is around. And yet, until we have officially crossed into the potential-dating zone... ah, we do tend to be pretty careful with our signals, don't we?

Our societal sexual stereotypes create problems, for one. Supposedly all men are oversexed, overaggressive, and immoral, so a woman who sees a random guy that she thinks is really hot is rather unlikely to simply go up and say she'd like to get to know him better.

Oddly enough, I think this same stereotype ultimately ends up stopping a lot of men from doing the same... if a guy sees an attractive girl out, not only are there the stereotypes he may have about attractive women -- she's vain, she has men at her feet all day long, she's a heartless man-eater or an unrepentant gold-digger, for instance -- but he'd also be aware that more than likely, should he go talk to her she might likely think he's just some sleazy guy looking for sex ... and how do you break through that?

And yeah, it's complicated -- because I know while men may fear seeming like an oversexed player or something, women generally tend to fear appearing too agressive or potentially slutty. (Which I've always found an unfortnate fear, myself -- personally, I love slutty women...)

So even before a single word is spoken, we're engaged in this little dance -- we want to be seen, but not misunderstood -- we may want to get closer to that attractive other person, but we are wary of the "bad" types of people that this person may be an example of.

What is the issue at the very heart of it? I mean, considering that in most social situations we are at very little risk physically, financially, or legally -- what's the worst that could happen if we are misunderstood, or if we misunderstand someone?

Well, more than likely you can easily think of at least a few examples of some bad things that could happen. Because even if you're at no other risk -- you certainly are at an emotional one, once you put your heart out there, are you not?

Being intimidated or uncomfortable or nervous around someone you want only makes sense, if you think about it. I mean certainly -- how hard do you find it to be your normal, witty, charming self around someone in whom you have very litle interest?

But attraction changes all that. And I don't just mean the sort of "he/she is really kinda nice to look at" kind of attraction. I mean, real attraction -- as in, your body feels different when you're close to this person. You can feel your pulse race, your breathing change -- overall, you become more aware of your body in general. Of your whole body, as if you're a string that vibrates at the frequency they give off. And of course, in such situations, you find it very difficult to think about much besides this ache inside you that speaks only of how much you need that person.

So now. Where are you then, if you're all a-tremble with desire and anticipation? Well, the scary part of it is that our desire makes us vulnerable. And again, we're not talking just simple physical desire here -- there's plenty of people any of us may find physically attractive, yet who simply do not "do it" for us. Yet then there's just those certain individuals ... where just the sight of them makes you aware of an emptiness you didn't even know you had inside you, an emptiness you still can't exactly understand or qualify -- except that you know this one person is exactly what you need to fill it in. Somehow, you are sick, and they are your only possible cure.

And there's the other side of where it's scary. Making your aching desire plain makes you vulnerable, this deep seated need now made clear to the world ... and, it gives the other person power. Because they can choose to make you happy and fulfilled -- they can choose to make you miserable and wanting -- or, much worse, they can twist you up in such a way where you're ecstatic one second and morose and dejected the next.

And how should we feel trusting enough to want to give that kind of power to someone we don't know so well?

I realized, in retrospect (and after she told me -- okay, I'm not so bright) why the girl from that class had so many walls up protecting herself from me: the truth was that there was not a whole lot I might have suggested or asked of her that she would not have happily done. And that may just potentially be trouble, when you are newly married.

There's a song lyric I always liked that I think fits nicely here. Sheryl Crow sings, "Lie to me, I promise I'll believe. Lie to me -- just please don't leave."

And I think that's the patethic state we tend to fear, when we encounter someone whose presence becomes as precious to us as the air we breathe.

I mean, is there any intelligent way anyway, to say, "I was yours before you even said, 'hi'?"

I mean sure, you can say that ... but of course, the other person might just say, "... um... but I don't want you?"

So yeah, it's a tricky little path we walk into desire, is it not? For being too mindful of our fear may lose us the opportunity to actually get the object of our affections ... while ignoring it completely almost certainly guarantees disastous results.

So I don't know. I often tend to talk a lot, and not have much of a point at the end. Hell, you should really be used to that by now.

Ye Gods, but I'm tired. Today's gonna suck, kids.

But hey, have fun when you can.