8:172) Aaron Webb 14-APR-98 21:35

met a girl in Italy. Acually re-met one. Casual aqaintance from Grand Rapids who is a Michigan Junior Classical Leauge colleauge... We re-meet during a tour of the ampitheatre where Spartacus once battled as a slave, literaly bumping into each other. We talk briefly. I don't really recognize Her, the real her, since it's not the MJCL President, cool, professional, and charismatic that I met before. This is Kira, smiling, friendly, alluring. Tour guides move off in seperate directions, and we part ways with unknowing smiles.

Another chance meeting on the balcony of the hotel the next night. Conversation about nothing and everything for an hour while we watch the twinkling lights winding around Vesuvius, and busily ignore the gaggle of British 12 year olds.

Meet briefly next two days, hand slaps of recognition seem to linger a bit. I decide to start looking. More conversations, drinks with friends, more smiles.

As we load buses on the last day, I fumble out a half-excuse about why we need each other's phone numbers, scribble mine on a scrap of paper, and wave good by.

Her phone number is sitting on my dresser now, watching me pace across the room. Should I call? Was there actually something there? Or was I reading too much into the whole mess( as a lonely mind is wont to do), and guilted her into exchanging phone numbers? What business do I have getting myself involved with a girl an hours drive away anyway? What's worse: abject rejection, or thought's of what could have been?