January 19, 2006

Love Interest Revealed

Jill Brooks, INtake columnist

I’ve found a love interest. Scientifically this means I can no longer concentrate; I’ve been spending an inordinate amount of time staring out my window in a daze; and everyone must repeat things twice.

It’s the “beginning of a relationship” type of love interest, not to be confused with the common crush. I’m certain he’s thinking about me too.

I check my cell phone every couple of minutes to see if he’s calling, then my e-mail in-box, then my cell again. This goes on all day, while blue skies hover over the grayness of winter. Is it cold outside? I hadn’t noticed.

I feel giddy and I laugh uncontrollably; ten minutes later I think I may cry. I’m an emotional avalanche and I don’t even mind that the stupid, frickin’ idiot in front of me just cut me off in traffic. The world is peaceful and full of beauty.

I check my in-box again.

Love poems come into my head all day and I begin my fifty-first journal. Pen poised against paper, my head tilts to one side and I sigh. Was that a unicorn that just slid down that rainbow?

I close my eyes and picture my love interest’s cute dimples smiling at me, the cleft in his chin and his strong arms that are dying to wrap themselves around me. I nod as he expresses his vast knowledge for business law, mergers and world politics.

Keep talking, Love Interest, I’m listening, but I can barely hear you over that gleam in your blue eyes.

I wonder what I’ll cook him for dinner. Does he like salad? I wonder what he’ll look like in the black turtleneck I plan on buying for him. I’ll bet he can even iron his own shirt.

If I book now, I’m sure I can get a good deal on the honeymoon package.

I check my in-box, and right after our annual budget meeting at work I’ll practice writing his last name as my own.

Love Interest likes my kind of music: be still my heart. Consider him pre-approved for Brooks’ family gatherings. My parents will love you, Love Interest.

Love Interest and I hang out a lot. We listen to jazz or blues and sip wine while he mulls over legal documents. I sit with my laptop on my apt legs, and look up at him working between each typed word.

Until they become boyfriends, Love Interests are perfect in everyway.

You sure got it right, Santa—he’s much better than a shiny new bike.