So I was going to discuss the topic I discussed for my Personal Commitment presentation for 395, since it was something that had been on my mind, and there were things I wanted to say about it that I couldn’t really discuss during a presentation. Mostly because it wasn’t relevant.

But then I didn’t feel like it. I mean, I wrote about 1.5k as a script to myself, and then had to read it at least 10 times over, and I absolutely loathe re-reading my own work.

The idea just became a little stale. My ideas became a little less unique. My thoughts became more stubborn.

Maybe another time, I guess. If I remember that is.

Instead, here’s something else I’ve wanted to try. It’s different from what I usually do (I’d like to think). Hopefully it’ll address the point that I wanted it to.

Anyways, don’t get your hopes up. I really suck/hate/dislike this style of writing.  It’s just not me. I can read it how I want it to be written, but I can’t write it how I want it to be spoken.

Hopefully you’ll understand what I mean.



“Oh come on, Kevin. It’ll be fine!”

“Don’t give me that bullshit, you know it’s not going to be fine.”

“Come off it already, why not give it a chance?”

I had to first make sure no one was around. Didn’t want anyone hear me talking to myself.

Not that I was talking to myself or anything. I was actually thinking to myself. But sometimes I stop thinking and end up talking. It just happens. Don’t judge.

“God no. I can’t do that. Do you know how awkward this is?!”

Mental note. Screaming in my head doesn’t achieve the same satisfaction that physically screaming does. I should actually scream at something when I get home. Maybe it’ll help me forget.

“Uh… no?”

“I haven’t talked to her in like…”

I mentally count the number of years. Grade 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, year 1, 2, and now 3… 5 from high school and almost 3 from university. Eight years.



I slowly realize that mentally reaching the conclusion of 8 years, and then thinking the line “8 years” was a double count. God if this had any relevance to bookkeeping my balance would be way off. Oh… that reminds me, I still don’t know how to do the journal entries for ADA and BDE. But besides that…

“8 fucking years dude. That’s 40% of my life. FORTY PERCENT. You know how much that is? ALMOST HALF! I’ve almost managed to not say a word to this girl in almost half my life! At this point I wouldn’t be surprised if she either: A. Doesn’t want to talk to me or B. Doesn’t remember me. I’m almost always going to be better off not saying shit. The expected value for decision is like fucking negative INFINITY.”

Oh god. I just thought about expected value. Expected value has entered my brain, escaped from the section known as ‘SCHOOL WORK’, and entered my everyday vocabulary. Great.

I envision the ‘SCHOOL WORK’ section being a old and kind of abandoned metal door slapped onto a stone wall. An old rusty name tag of ‘SCHOOL WORK’ hangs above the door, alerting me that this was indeed for school work. Realizing that the door’s probably not locked (probably explains why I said expected value), I take some caution tape and cover the door with it.

“Man, I have to open this door again in like 5 hours when I eventually start to study for my midterm tomorrow. Why did I just do that?”

“Probably the same reason why you won’t fucking just talk to her. You’re dumb.”

“Fuck you, I’m not dumb – you’re dumb.”



“You do realize…”


Arguing with myself doesn’t really produce any positive results. I should stop.

“You remember how much you regretted not saying “Hi” the last time this happened, right?”


Oh of course I do. I remember making a commitment to not bail out on these kind of decisions last year around this time. You think I could forget those incidents? They weigh on my mind. But this is different. Context, context. It’s all about the context. The other times were me not speaking up because I didn’t’ feel like I could. This time I still feel the same way, but there was another good reason for that – Acky. I didn’t know what to do. He was literally between me and her, dude. Like geezus. Me and her sat on opposites side of the bus, both facing forward. Acky was literally in the one seat that was between us – beside me. For some reason he just CAN’T SHUT UP when we’re on the bus. Normally he stops after a while, or I’m the only one talking, but on the bus he just for some reason has a huge amount of random shit to talk about. Seriously. I literally tell him “I am going to try to sleep” AND THEN HE KEEPS TALKING TO ME LIKE WHAT THE FUCK BACK THE FUCK UP DUDE.

God. Can you tell I’m frustrated? I’m pretty frustrated.

But that’s besides the point. I guess it really just boiled down to I had no idea what to say.

“Hey there, I kind of ignored you for the last 8 years because I didn’t know what to say to you, and because you’re kind of quiet normally it just made it worse for me to say something but here I am right now so yeah. How are you?”


Also, guess who’s with me today?



“So here’s the plan. She got off the stop after Acky last time. After Acky’s out of the way, maybe I can just, you know, pretend I totally didn’t see her the last 45 minutes and say hi?”

“That sounds good. Except for the fact you ignored her for 45 minutes.”

“What’s 8 years to 45 minutes? This idea is GODLIKE.”

“Stop it with your Scar impersonation. You’re never going to actually say it with the same enunciation as him in a real life situation.”

“Don’t ruin my dreams.”

“Let them stay as memes.”

So off we go.

God Acky, SHUT UP LET ME SLEEP I’M ACTUALLY RIDICULOUSLY TIRED. Sigh. I’ll just nod and grunt ‘mmm’. That will be sufficient… right? I hope.

It’s almost time. After this coming stop, Acky will get off, and since he is LITERALLY SITTING BETWEEN US AGAIN, I can just turn to say ‘Bye’ to him, and then ‘notice’ her. Then proceed to say ‘Hi’. That sounds good. Flawless, really.

Wait. Wait. Waitwaitwaitwaitwaitwait. WAIT. WHAT?

She’s getting off here?!

Yo… my plan… MY PLAN!

Oh come on God, don’t play with my feelings here. I know I saw her get off near Marine and Hudson the last time. Why is she getting off at TD Bank?


It was an exception. Or is this time the exception? I don’t normally take this bus at this time so I would’ve never known! God why do you do this to me. You think this is funny or something?


At least Acky gets off next stop so I can think about this some more.

So… what now? I don’t normally take the 480 at this time on Wednesdays. I’m only here since I went for lunch after class, and it took longer than expected. Besides, the other 3 or 4 times I took the 480 at this time I didn’t see her. Did I need to be earlier? Later? In fact, what time did I even get on the bus at? 3:30? 3:20? Even earlier? My god, I actually have no chance of meeting her again like this. Damn I’m good.

Good at being shit.

You know what? This is probably some sort of divine punishment. If God is real and all, he’s probably  doing this to fuck with me. “Hohoho, you thought you could just pretend you didn’t see her for 45 minutes? Well let me help with that! You pretended you didn’t see her for so long she got off before you noticed! Hohohoho aren’t I so funny?”

Yes, that’s how I envision God sounding like right now.

Like a total dick.

“Maybe I deserved this.”


“I mean, I didn’t take the chance and just say ‘Hi”. It’s just “Hi”. Here, I can imagine how it would go…”

I freeze before saying anything – mentally of course. I can’t freeze while walking towards the back of the bus, the rest of the people behind me would hate me. Okay, calm down there. You can do it. You can do it.


That was too quiet. I could barely hear myself.



“oh h-hey there…’




And…. that’s how it wouldn’t have happened.

“I guess it wouldn’t have worked out.”

I sigh. Even in my imagination things don’t work out. How pathetic.

“And I even wrote those blogs about how I wasn’t going to miss opportunities. How it’s more regretful to not take them than it is to take them. This is saddening. I can only talk the talk, but I can’t actually walk…”

What has this last year been for? I’ve already missed at least 3 other opportunities like this, each time thinking “I’ll get it next time”. When will I ever get it? There’s not enough next times for me to just laze around.

“…Opportunity comes once in a life time.”

That song again.

While it’s true that opportunities are one time things. In that moment, you have to take it or leave it. But that opportunity will come back. Not the exact same, but slightly different. Maybe it’s the date. Maybe the context is different. Maybe this time there’s no empty walkway between you and your goal. Maybe you could’ve just sat beside her initially and everything would have been okay. Maybe next time you will sit beside her and make it okay.

Maybe next time I actually will be able to say it.

“Maybe next time I will actually say it.”

I can’t be too optimistic about it. I’ve avoided these kinds of situations for almost 21 years now, there is definitely going to be some difficulty in trying to keep a new, consistent idea.

“Doesn’t mean I can accept all these failures though. I’ve got to do something soon.”

I’ve just got to be realistic.

“I’ve got to ‘live in the real world’… heh.”

Maybe next time will be the time.

I’ll actually be able to say it.

“Hey there, Megan.”