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"It could have been worse," I told myself. "It could have been much worse." The eternal pessimist in me brainstormed for reasons to forget about her, but the faint ray of hope blinded me to any concerns of reservations I might have had.

"It could have been worse," I told myself again. "She could have immediately looked at me with disdain. But she didn't. She smiled, a smile that made her eyes twinkle and my lonely heart miss a beat." I hoped I wasn't lying to myself, that my eyes hadn't seen something that didn't really happen and that I wasn't putting importance in something that meant absolutely nothing.

"It could have been worse," I told myself, the my pessimistic side reasserted itself telling me how much better it could have gone, had I not frozen like a deer in headlights. There might have been something there, but surely my inability to carry on the simplest social interaction with someone so beautiful killed it. "Is that the problem?" I asked myself. Do I think I don't deserve someone like her?" My self-loathing pessimism said yes, but that doesn't matter. What I deserve has no bearing on what I get.

"It could have been so much worse" I told myself. "But somehow it wasn't."