Letters, Unsent

Dear Hot Guy at the Gym:

You rounded the corner on the gym track at a good, quick pace: knees high and arms pumping. Glistening with a light sheen of sweat, you stuck to the outside lane and easily passed everyone in your wake.

But you seemed to drift by slow motion movie style, in my mind's eye.  My mouth fell open slightly as soon as I saw you, and I barely heard the collective gasp of all the women in the area over my own sharp intake of breath.

Da-yum.  You, sir, are a hot piece of man meat.  Fella, you aren't just "hot guy at the gym," you may be "hottest guy I've ever seen in person."

Thank you for never letting your attention waver off the track ahead of you as you raced your laps. I felt much more comfortable openly staring at you while your eyes seemed to never stray from straight ahead focus.  I mean, I know I'm no tight little gym hottie, but I have seen women there who I'm pretty sure are actual strippers.  And yet, not even a flicker of a glance.

If you want to go ahead and show up at the gym again sometime when I'm there, I will welcome the opportunity to openly gawk at you again.  Feel free to never talk to me, so that I can imagine you are not only totally hot, but also really smart and kind and funny and fantastic.  And single and secretly into me.  Okay, not that last part, because if I actually thought all of those things, I would totally make a fool of myself for you--running after you on the track, trying to form words in your presence--and I think we both know I'm borderline there already.

XO,
Me

Dear Original Hot Guy at the Gym:

I haven't seen you in nearly a week, and I miss you.  Did you see me drooling over Super Hot, and now you think I won't be sneaking glances your way during your weightlifting routine?  Don't be silly.  We have history, dontcha know?

I saw you for the first time during my first training session.  I was performing some ridiculous maneuver designed by Trainer Girl to maximize how goofy I look while still straining my puny muscles to their limit.  So, hopefully you didn't notice me there, admiring you and wondering if you might consider taking your shirt off for my viewing pleasure.  Do you think there are rules about that at the gym?  There aren't at my house.

I noticed you working out when I went in to each of my next few training sessions, and I secretly delighted in our matching schedules.  Of course, I was embarrassed when you came by to say hello to another trainer while I stood there getting my body fat measured.  Yes, I handled that feeling of shame by grinning like an idiot.  That's why I could barely look at you while you and that guy talked about your short new haircut (love) and how easy it is for you to get ready in the morning.  I definitely probably did not think about how long it takes you to soap up all over while Trainer Girl pinched my hip fat.

The other day, when I you opened up the door to the gym for me--the door you were on your way out--and I said "thanks!"?  I meant "please feel free to talk to me, handsome younger brother of Christian Bale, I am crushing on you so hard."  I saw the suit you were carrying out with you gym bag. Was that a prop designed to make you seem even hotter?  Working.

Remember the last time we saw each other?  I was stretching against the wall after my "run", and happened to turn around right as you turned around from. . .your piece of gym equipment I cannot identify, mere yards away from me.  I thought we locked eyes for a second, so I gave you a tiny smile.  Were you also smiling at me?  We each turned back around then, and continued with our tasks at hand.  We were at the gym later than usual, that night.  I haven't seen you since.

Original Hot Guy at the Gym, let's get back on the same schedule. Let's get on a schedule where you talk to me, and you're awesome, and we take our meet-ups outside the gym.  I'm really looking forward to this.

Sincerely,
Moi