Sometimes it's better to not know -- Part 3

(Note: This is not a current event, but I need to add to the story)
Actually there is something to lose:

I missed it yesterday: My chance to have a real conversation with her. She walked past me and said, "Howdy." Who says that? Well, I don't. I said "Hi." And that was that.
I wanted to talk to her. I already had to endure the weekend without doing so. How dare she sneak up on me then walk away? I wasn't ready!
She's so mmm-perfect... I know she is just like me and we get one another. Plain and simple. But she's over there; I'm afraid I'll mess it up... What if I say the wrong thing? It'll ruin everything. I'm nervous. What if she thinks I'm a dork? Now I'm getting sick of me. I'm afraid to look at her and I'm nervous.

I steal a peek; she looks back.

As I keep working I plan what we'll say: The words, they ricochet in my mind repeatedly; the phrases are broken and spread like a shattered mirror on the tile: I whisper them under my breath to see if they are real. Five minutes. I need to talk to her, and I have five minutes.

I can do this! I imagine going and talking to her for the second time: She smiles and then laughs. The puffs of steam from the dish washer mess up her hair. She tells me something playfully. I tease her. We connect. --- That felt great! Imagining the scene must be at least a third as good as actually living it. In my mind its perfect; surreal. Beyond reality. Hmm...

Wait. I got distracted. Where'd she go? As I casually/frantically hunt, my countenances falls. I'm getting that feeling that comes when you turn back from the diving board. I hate missed opportunities. Too much.

Tomorrow. I know it.