The Human Parts Open Thread: Letter to a Stranger
Human Parts

To my coworker with the pale blue eyes and the loud, booming voice:

This was not love at first sight (it’s platonic, at best), but I remember the first time you came into our workplace. I only caught a glimpse of you as you were hired on the spot and you purposefully annoyed the secretary. I thanked God I wasn’t her, while the boss called you a “hipster dreamboat.” Hipster, yes, though I thought you looked like the aging lead singer of an indie band, kind of like a poor man’s Matt Berninger. You were different, but nothing special.

I cannot pinpoint the moment or the reason as to why that changed — maybe it was the sound of your voice, or your laugh — but I found myself thinking of you, quietly observing you, trying to piece you together. I want to know more about you, but I cannot find the courage to speak to you. I’m nearing 30, and yet I suddenly have the social skills of a teenager around you.

I’m sorry I’m such an awkward mess, but you’re interesting and I like you.