I saw him there sitting across to me. Actually, I was oblivious to his presence at first until he gave me that second look. He actually had the temerity to give me a straight look, a look that says a lot of things but may mean another thing. Never a man had given me such bold assessment. But that action triggered my curiosity to no end.

I never saw someone with such attractiveness and confidence without being so annoyingly arrogant. In fact, he made me feel so comfortable in his company that I didn’t feel any panic that usually went, when daring to make an eye contact with a complete stranger.

Streams of thoughts keep on swirling inside my head. Such as that time of the night this man might be a yuppie (young urban professional) on his way to a gym for he was a carrying a gym bag. Or maybe a fitness instructor, in the presence of that gym bag. Maybe, though a bit dismaying, a counterpart of a female nightclub receptionist, or worst, a strip teaser in a gay bar or a play toy of an old but filthy rich matron or a discriminating gay.

Whatever he is, he held my mind riveted to him for a few hours, heck for a few days. His eyes held much emotion, as if waiting to be tapped, waiting to flow. Wait! He might be an actor on his way to a rehearsal but there was no theater in the vicinity where I found him. It was a busy district, where mortal souls that belong to the different strata of society crossed paths without bothering to pause and at least waste a mere glance to strangers.

But we’re wandering away from my subject, my man of the night. Why man of the night? I’ve been passing that way day-in and day-out, almost seven days a week that a lot of faces are already familiar to me. His, I only discovered that night. Just when I was in the mood for deep contemplation of dreaming and wishing to see and talk to a particular guy I met at work.
I was surprised at myself. I didn’t stop and compare him with that someone who has been lately occupying my mind. I was so drawn with this man that I kept glancing back while trying to hide behind my eyelashes, only to catch him staring back at me. As if, he was also considering if he would prolong the situation or do something.

We remained there for a time, sitting and waiting who would have the guts to make that first move. Silence becomes unbearable, and I always thought that it was the refuge of the troubled and weary souls. Patience it seems is the name of the game that night. There were no standing rules to follow, only the two of us; the players who were also the judges. Judges of our fate for in our hands lay the changes in our lives.

But it seems, fate still had the upper hand in that game. We found ourselves in the end our respective destinations, wasted our time in exchanging looks, and remained contented without even trying to gain grounds.

My cowardliness to set foot to a strange but charming situation got in the way and so was his. He held my eyes until he got off from that train that carried us both to that same way but different destinations. As he walked away, he kept glancing back and so did I.

I realize that night; there are a lot of opportunities that we just let pass by. There are chances that may change our life for better or for worse. Only individuals like him and me, who don’t have enough guts to make the necessary steps in broadening their experiences beyond what we’re used to, are more afraid to take those steps. And the more we lose the chances that come our way, the more the opportunities become bleak. *****