Write a book and smile

Write what you know. So what do I know?

I am more of a solitary creature than most probably.

I haven’t had so many relationships. As far as it goes with men, I have had lots of crushes. I know about crushes!

Sometimes I crush on a guy for a little while and then forget him. Not so many fellows have made a really lasting impression. Some guys I remember but not their names. That bugs me.

Hmm… so, thinking about men I have known…what could I say about them? One thing is I remember their smiles.

One man I am thinking of smiled often. And he wasn’t fake. He didn’t always smile, but he did it easily, and he had a warm and friendly, at ease kind of smile. It made me feel warm and safe. From the first I met him, I felt I could trust him. And as I got to know him better, he never gave me any reason to feel any different.

One young man had a smile that dazzled me. I never knew when he might flash it at me. But when he did, it was enough to light up my whole day. Then again, he could just as easily make me cry too. Sometimes I wondered if he enjoyed making me cry.

And there was this other guy he had a great smile too. He was generous with it and with dispensing hugs. That was nice.

I have known many tears too. I have shed quite a few tears over men.

So what do I know? That a smile can make my day? And, I know what is to be alone, a lot.

Sometimes smiles annoy me. What a sourpuss! I wonder, “What is this person smiling about?” There are some people who seem to me like they are just too happy. Like it just can’t be genuine.

I wonder, have I ever dazzled anyone with my smile?

When I was in college, which was years ago, I tried an experiment in smiling. I tried this out on the housekeepers in my dormitory. Whenever I saw them, no matter how I was feeling I would smile. I might also say hello, but that’s about all. The experiment produces these results, the ladies responded favorably. And I really enjoyed their responses. But, I sort of felt like I was being fake. All the same, maybe it’s worth it to try smiling more, even when I feel more like a sour pickle then anything.

So, back to the subject of writing. Describing people seems difficult. Beyond smiles, I sit here trying to think of how to describe people. I do notice other things about people.

He was short and animated, and had a certain way of wiggling when he talked. Curiously, he was the second person I had met that did that and both were also quick-witted and quite intense.

She was about my height, but unlike me she had stayed thin as she got older. She had a good sense of humor. My first impression of her had been that she talked a mile a minute and made lots of jokes. I knew her quite awhile before I began to see more to her than that joking side. And she no longer overwhelmed me with a barrage of words. I guess she had gotten to know me better too and she started letting down her guard.

I’ve heard it said that everyone has a book in them. So far I don’t see a book! Is there really a book to be found in my head? Is it just a matter of working at it hard enough?