You are smiling. Years too late. Many men too late.

Whenever we meet, after exchanging the usual niceities, due to mutual friends, and using you as advertisement, you continue smiling at me, you try to catch my eye pretty often, waiting for me to pay you more attention, that will lead to more.

It will not happen.

Because few other things happened.

I met you many years ago, when you were around twenty five, a still young, blossoming thing of beauty. I made the mistake of not making the interaction interesting, of course, you being boring never entered your mind, so the interaction died, and I bed my farewells.

That is of no problem. But you were young, i.e. Very attractive, I was on my wrong foot, i.e. nervous. I accept my responsibility.

Today, you are past thirty, going to gym six times a week barely makes a difference. The belly is clearly seen under your Sex and City clothing, I, on the other hand, did not age like milk.

Wine?

Now that you are past thirty, now that you are ready to settle, now that I am a better me, now you are interested?

Hey, I sailed onto younger waters, long time ago, far away from the cliffs that you jumped when you took on years of drinking and partying.

Imagine a fly on the highway, now imagine a truck hitting it.

Oh, that would still make you suitable for a good romp when sex is scarce, as you still are good looking, but,

In the past years, I have seen you holding hands with douchebags, guidos, and apachis. But before that, you said no, to me!

Believe me, I'd rather jerk off, than knowingly go to where these men were served a free for all sunday brunch.

Beauty, is only skin deep. I see through.

You smile. But know that smile stays invisible. And will stay so.