Sometimes It's better to not know -- part 1

Two days ago, I met a girl.
Okay, in truth I didn't technically meet her. This was the situation: I've been volunteering at this mental hospital in Provo -- I know, its sounds like the start of a great story... -- I was working in the kitchen. I was mopping, drying dishes, putting away dishes; that sort of thing. I didn't yet know, but I'd be playing glance volleyball soon.

I see the girl working in the cleaning station; that's the place where the dishes are washed off. It's a rare thing, when looking at a someone or something makes one draw an extra breath. It feels tingly in the arms. I ask myself, a pretty girl? Here? ... I work near her for a while, but not in direct sight; I wait moment to moment, hoping to find a chance where I can steal another look. When I get a chance, almost each time I'm greeted by two bright blue eyes looking right back at me. In no way is this disagreeable, but I can only stand it for a moment. When I walk near her to put a clean dish away I smile and say something mildly clever but altogether brief. Then I walk away, biting my lip.
I think she smiled.

This is without question, extremely fun. Each time I saw her, it was like seeing her for the first time. Thrilling.

She is just so fun to look at, and she keeps looking back. At this point I can't understand why I'm so drawn to her. Her hair was basically messy, it didn't seem like she had very much if any makeup on. Though thoroughly beautiful, she didn't seem to have those typically lasciviously noticed features.

I really want to ask her name. But I have an abnormally difficult time bringing myself to it. Inner debate ensues: I realize that in my mind, at this point, she is perfect. Even more than wanting to get to know her, I want to eke that reality, our unpretentious relationship, as long as possible. One misconstrued word, or disqualifying phrase could break that charm for either of us. And it would never be repaired.

Yesterday, I got her name.