I'm not sure if I've told you this already or not.
There's a girl in my Calculus class. She's 23. She went to the same highschool as me. One day in class she paused in front of my desk and said "Michael, right?" I corrected her but I don't recall if I pointed out that Michael's my brother (he also went to the same highschool... he's two years older than her, she's two years older than me). The problem is this: This girl, apparently, likes me... but I'm curious if she likes me or if she likes some weird chimeric mental hybrid of what she knows or remembers of me and what she remembers of my brother... Which is basically a moot point as no matter whether you've got the right person or not... you like the strange idealized mental image of them that you have, rarely seeing the actual person you're interested in (at this point you can imagine a meaningful electronic glance in your direction). This occurs later at which point you throw your hands up in bewildered confusion and/or disgust and wonder how you ever got yourself into this mess (or how you'll get out) or you accept this person as they are and adapt... or you do both if you're particularly craven that evening.
Anyway, I have a vague recollection of this girl from HS. I did not know her name. I did not ever speak to her as far as I know. I do remember thinking she was cute. I still do think she's attractive, as a matter of fact.
I had an interesting sort of epiphany today in class. I'm shy.
"Bah!" you say. Okay, so maybe I'm not, what with the webcam and what's gone on under it's 1f/23s blinking eye. Oh, incidentally I went to campus today with a shirt reading "Looking to debut in internet PoRn?"
Would you accept that I'm shy under certain circumstances?
I'm not shy when I need something from someone.
I'm not shy when I don't want something from someone (or do, but am not terribly concerned about whether I get it or not).
However, should I be interested in the outcome, whoo boy... I'll sit there and stare at you.... or casually ignore you... or otherwise fuck around and avoid any real meaningful contact. I would rather have the relatively abstract uncertainty of an unasked question then the brief helpless abyss between its asking and its answering. Only because I have a vested interest in the answer.
Of course if I didn't have an interest in the answer, you wouldn't be hearing about her... She would be glanced at briefly, appraised silently, and then I would return to whatever book I happened to be reading... instead, if you pay close attention you might discover I glace briefly a time or two... or that I turn pages less slowly because it's rather difficult to read while paying most of your attention to the image dancing on the periphery. Yet, I do not speak. Well, I speak if she speaks to me. But she has not steered any conversations we've had in that direction, and I've offered only the slightest of nudges. Either she's ignored these peeks into the abyss or hasn't caught them... which does not improve the chances of me stepping up to ask a qustion until I've given up.
The trouble is, when I give up, the chances do not improve. At that point a new set of rules moves in and I fail to ask, not out of fear of rejections or fear of acceptance, but on the basis of the simple fact that I don't wish to subject someone to myself on a whim... usually.
So fucking submissive. Why?