This reminds me of a story that occurred several years ago. Perhaps you can glean from it the wisdom you seek. Perhaps not.

When I was a freshman in college, I fell in love for the first time; rich, euphoric, natural love. To me, she was the most beautiful and mysterious individual I had ever had the fortune to encounter. Her gaze pierced me like hot iron, and her touch radiated warmth to the center of my being in intense, undulating waves of passion. I knew I could detect her voice in a crowded room, even if it was but the most subtle of whispers wandering to my ears like an ephemeral breeze. Due to the nature of this particular woman, I was indeed shocked that she would garner even the slightest interest in me - a scrawny, pallid, quirky nerd who had barely managed to ignite even a weak romantic relationship in high school. So how did these two contrasting entities converge? It happened over winter break, when I had returned to my home town to visit family and friends.

I attended a party hosted by several of my best high school friends, and that is when I saw her. Dancing in the corner with two friends, her inky dark hair thrashing wildly from the fringes of that delicate face, her body swaying in sinuous accordance with the energetic pulsations of the music. I felt like I had been hit by a car, maybe two cars, when I saw her. Still, due to my social incompetence, I could not muster up the nerve to dance my way over to her corner; I was a hunter, afraid that the slightest error on my part would result in the spooking of my much-prized target. For the next hour, I attempted to ignore her presence in the room, but it was like trying to blot out the sunlight on a cloudless summer afternoon. Ultimately futile.

It was after that long hour that I decided I had to take a chance. All throughout my life , I had shied away from risk. I secluded myself, secured myself in a comfortable bubble where my thoughts were my own and nobody could intrude. I was a recluse, and tonight was my night to shatter the confines of my little safety bubble. Sweat forming in glistening beads on my forehead, my legs trembling as if on a rickety bridge suspended over a tumultuous, hungry fire, I turned in the direction of my target and began to walk. The closer I approached, the more beautiful she became. "This is nonsense!" I told myself. "Pure foolishness! She would never be interested in anything you have to say, not even if you were the most handsome man in this room." But my legs resisted the incessant hindrances laid out by my mind, and, before I knew it, she was standing an arm's length away from me, that gaze piercing my own. I tried to speak, but it was as if a thick film of mucus had gathered in the back of my throat. Traces of strawberries and lavender danced seductively in my nose as she took a step toward me and extended her arm in one graceful motion; we were almost touching. "Does she want to dance?" I asked myself. "Yes! She wants to dance! This cannot be happening!" Her fingers did not quiver as they floated above my head, and I anxiously moved my hand from my pocket so that I could take them in my grasp.

My heart throbbing deeply in my skull and my vision going blurry, I was so close! Not only would I get to be near this girl, I would get to dance with her! Could I be dreaming? No. My hand motioned toward hers, inching forward through space and time, two inches one inch, almost. Before the tips of our fingers touched, a reddish mass formed suddenly in my periphery. A red Solo cup. "Here you are my lady." A brawny, handsome man garbed in a colorful fraternity jacket placed a cup of sparkling punch into her hand. "Sorry I kept you waiting. Nick had to make some more punch." In a flash I was dragged violently out of my stupor, and she looked down gratefully and continued to dance.

I left the corner and walked back to my group friends. After about thirty minutes I was doused with sleepiness, and I decided to drive home.