I originally published this post in August 2017. It only received sixteen views, got five likes, and three comments. But I really like this post and think it was under exposed and unappreciated, so I thought I’d give it a second go. I hope you enjoy it.
I never met the girl in the window in real life. Just in my fantasies. And now she’s gone. Maybe she moved out. Maybe she got married or moved in with her boyfriend. Maybe something bad happened to her. Maybe she died. Now I’ll never know.
I always saw her when I took my dog out for the last walk of the night, usually between 9:30 and 10:00. She would usually be sitting in front of her laptop, facing the window, a small table lamp on her right. What was she doing? Now I’ll never know.
Maybe she was a student doing homework. Maybe she was working on an assignment for her job. Maybe she was an aspiring author and was writing her novel. Maybe she was a blogger crafting a post. Or maybe she was watching internet porn. Now I’ll never know.
I counted on seeing her each night. I only ever saw her face and her hair, as the rest of her was hidden behind her open laptop. She had, as far as I could tell from the other side of the street, a pretty face. Her hair was reddish blonde, or that’s what it looked like in the glow of her laptop’s screen and the light from the lamp on her desk. Now I’ll never know.
I am reasonably certain that she never noticed me and my dog. The sidewalk right across the street from her building is tree-lined and rather dark at night. Although there was that one time when she glanced up from her laptop and appeared to look out the window and directly at me. But she didn’t respond when I waved at her. Did she see me? Now I’ll never know.
I had seen her almost every night for nearly a year. I became obsessed with her. She inhabited my dreams. She was the leading lady of my fantasies. I had to somehow find the courage to meet her. I was sure that if we ever met, she would feel about me as I felt about her. Now I’ll never know.
One day very soon I would call up to her from the street right below her window and introduce myself to her. Maybe she would invite me up to her apartment and offer me a drink. Maybe tea or coffee. Maybe a beer or a glass of wine. Maybe she’d offer me something to eat. Maybe we’d hold hands, embrace one another. Now I’ll never know.
They say he who hesitates is lost. I hesitated. And now she’s gone. Now I’ll never know.