I am a tragic hero.

"I saw this captivating girl at the Metropolitan Museum of Art yesterday (Tues 8/11) around 2pm/2:30pm. I used to work at the Met so I went to visit some old co-workers and to see the new exhibits. When I was in the American Wing Statue Courtyard, and in the period rooms I noticed this beautiful, interesting brunette wearing a white tank top and peach colored skirt who was taking pictures of statues and writing something in a book. I regret not attempting to talk to her. It's a long shot, but if she's reading this, my name is TJ and I would love to get to know you to any capacity! You stood out more than the artwork... "

"tuesday aug 11

we were both waiting for the 4 train at union square, reading our books when we got on the train. someone near you got up and i took their seat. you got off the train before me. god, you were so beautiful.

you probably wont read this, but if you do...let's grab a coffee together."

"We switched from the F to the E, and didn't have to wait at all! You were wearing a black dress and worked in costume design, which I still think is really cool.

I don't know if anything long-term would work out between us, but i should have told you how beautiful I think you are."

On Wednesday I got on the D train after work. At the 2nd stop, the guy next to me got up, so I slid over to my favorite seat, next to the door. In moving, I thought I noticed the guy across the doorway from me checking me out. Things like this usually go COMPLETELY over my head, or I assume I just imagined it, and I've been trying to be a little more conscious and accepting of being hit on so I can take advantage of it and get myself out there. And I've also been trying to be more proactive. So I glanced over when more people were getting on the train, and our eyes met. He smiled. I don't have the guts to keep the eye contact going for long, so I pulled the look-away-and-smile move. A few moments later I looked back. Again with the look exchange and smiling. According to friends who are more experienced in the dating pool of Manhattan, the second look was my signal that he could approach me. So I waited for it. My heart was beating so hard. This wasn't just any guy, this was a maybe-35-year-old very attractive tall caucasian man in a nice suit. !!!!! By now I am used to guys in the Heights checking me out, but an attractive slightly older man in a nice suit is an ENTIRELY DIFFERENT BALL GAME. And so my bubble of considering myself not attractive enough has been popped. Just like that. And it feels amazing.

The reason why I write this post is not because I am conceited. Quite the opposite. I write this post because I have struggled with self-image concerns since I became aware of my looks. That magical age where you start comparing yourself to your classmates. I could write examples of the horrifying things fellow students have done to or said about me but suffice it to say, the struggle is deeply-rooted and difficult to conquer. 5 years at a college obsessed with marriage where no one wanted to date me didn't help matters. So here I am, in the center of millions of single men, finally learning the rules of the dating game. And Wednesday night was a big lesson. And a huge triumph. This man finally fit the demographic of what my 12-year-old self pictured when dreaming of her future. (Not that I'm expecting my man to look like what my 12-year-old-self pictured, but that particular demographic of man has previously never hit on me, being a curvy girl.)

I'm not sure why this man didn't ask for my number, as he was obviously digging me-- he kept his eye on me the entire ride. He stood up to let me know he was getting off at the next stop, but I didn't want to make the first verbal contact, that was supposed to be his job (and my heart was beating way too hard). I had done the look exchange three times. I felt that was enough to send my approval of approach. If I'd had business cards, I would have slipped him one, but all I had in my bag was a crumpled menu. After he got off he stayed on the platform with his eye on me. I guess he'll be a one that got away.

After coming up to the street out of the subway I immediately phoned a friend to squeal and jump up and down with. Confidence is key, and mine is growing.

The quotations at the top of the post are from the Missed Connections section of Craigslist. My roommate insisted I look for a post about myself. Reading that section is kind of magical. I doubt many people actually find the other person they found so mesmerizing, but what a romantic gesture! It's one of those things that restores your faith in humanity.

I love how these statements are someone's vain cast into endless cyberspace, on the tiniest chance it will catch on something.