Pointless Analepsis

In the last two weeks the events from over the last year have been recounted: old dreams in new shapes, disappointments, nostalgia for what never happened, etc. I actually don't know why this phenomenon has come out, but results turn to be quite contradictory. On the one hand, I sometimes feel certain comfort, on the other, I have mostly the sour and persistent impression I'm through and only wait for everything to end. There are flashbacks, nevertheless, which, no matter how petty and shallow they could strike someone, still bring up questions that live on. Once analysed a more detailed synthesis is applied on them. Thence their meanings become more mysterious yet conceal undeniable truths.

Some events just go by due to their closeness and shortness. Yet temporal distance helps see them under a brighter light. I'm not sure whether it is a gift or an evil, but I can perfectly recall what happened to me a long time ago. Last year I was hanging around outside the faculty with some friends. A tedious three-hour class--to which I always arrived late on purpose--had just finished. Though I wasn't in the mood of going home early, therefore I stayed there to kill time. I had suddenly a strange, relentless urge. I knew I had to turn my eyes aside, but I had no idea why. I was facing the building gates, so that my view was way too limited. I immediately turned my gaze and there she was, facing me, walking towards me. I was completely standing inside her visual field. She came to say hi to one of us and left. I can't describe such sensation. I simply turned my eyes left, not knowing who or what could be there. I just know something forced me to. I wasn't before interested in such beliefs, though it is quite likely her glance made me turn my face to see her. I must confess that, some months later, when I encountered her again, the intensity in her eyes was confirmed.

I must confess, however, I'm always miles away (not to say indifferent) and I seldom pay any attention to everyone around me. It happened quite often people, who I ignored they ever existed, came close to me and said they had seen me roaming in the faculty. When someone is looking at me, in whom I am not the least interested, there is no effect on me. What I wrote above, however, was far different. I had previously met this girl. But I noticed she always liked me quite late, and then I lost her trace. We only saw each other again twice at most, quite fleetingly. A few months later we met regularly again; during that time I discovered a considerable chemistry between us. However, that didn't stop her to let me down in the end. And disappointment didn't mean everything was over. She kept looking at me, she kept fancying me. Yet the disillusionment I felt ran deeper than the fact I still drew her attention. Many people think that a single glance conveys more messages than any kind of body language--Now I believe that too. I'm still intrigued by the way in which one single stare of hers moved me to face her--my acquaintances can't say I'm lying, I've never been a paranoid wanker.

I wish I was dumber and more shallow. I wish I was stupid and conceited enough to be happy with the fact that a good-looking girl cast her deep glance to me. Mainly, I wish I could easily forget things like those, as if they had never happened. I wish, rather, such insignificant events sufficed my needs, made me feel better.