I am a Jerk.

I think about writing you that note and my heart starts beating out of my chest and then decides to change direction and jumps up through my throat. I think about saying “hi” or that “you’re beautiful” or “in my mind I see me asking to kiss your neck after we had been dating for a while” but I don’t. I get all flustered and sweat starts condensing under my hair on my forehead and I just walk out of the shop and leave you there behind the counter to be desired after by the next Jim or Richard that walks through the door. I am a jerk.