I like to think of myself as a romantic. I think a lot of you know why, and can agree on the fact that I am. I fall in love very easily, and I'll have a hard time leaving that girl behind in case she doesn't answer my love. I'll always believe that something can happen in some miraculous way. I see my future in a very optimistic way, and the thing I want most in life is to have a girl that loves me, and wants what I want: raising a couple of kids together. I would like to be able to give my kids what my parents have, and still are giving me: love and opportunities. But to get there, I'll have to find the right girl. I'll have to meet her, talk to her, and let her know how I feel.

At that point the brain kicks in... It starts analyzing the situation in which I find myself. How good do I know her? How close is she to me? What do I risk when I tell her? 99 percent of the time I find myself deciding not to tell her because it could harm the relationship we have at that point, or simply because I figure I have no chance at all.

Not daring to tell what you want to tell is really frustrating. Especially when your brain already knows where it wants you to be with that girl in a couple of months. When you've already seen the beauty in her. Not being able to tell is one of the hardest things I know in life.

So when I'm travelling and I see a beautiful girl, I start thinking about what I would like to say to her to at least start a conversation. I start imagining what the scene could be, right there, in that train, until one of us has to leave. Usually I don't end up telling her, which I regret every time they get up and leave.

Yesterday, for the first time in my life, I did something like this. I entered the train, sat down, and three seats to my left, on the other side of the booth there was this girl.

A girl that looked like a creative, slightly alternative, rocker that, to complete her style, likes to put in some slight Goth accents in the way she dresses. A girl that dresses like that, triggers something in me, because they are often timid, and can bring the biggest surprises as they start to show their true colours.

Anyway, I sat down, and we left. About 10 minutes into the trip I started to watch her a bit closer (hopefully not in a creepy way). Then I picked up my notebook, and started writing. This is (less or more) what I wrote:

She sits and watches out of the window. Her eyes moving from left to right as she watches the trees that are passing us by. She shows tranquillity, peace and intellect. At the same time she seems to be searching for something.

Searching for inspiration for one of her drawings, or maybe for something else. She at least seems to be looking for that one thing that would light the fire in her eyes. Eyes that would be able to pierce your soul.

As she sits there she resembles what comes close to perfection. A perfection of which I will probably never know her name.

These couple of lines were finished by the time we were getting close to Bologna. I'm sure that I could've written a lot more, had I not seen that she was preparing to leave the train. So two minutes before we arrive at Bologna I rip the page out of my notebook, and just look at it. 'Am I going to do this? Am I going to give her this? Ah, why not? She's getting out, you'll probably never see her again, and there is nothing offensive on there. JUST GROW SOME BALLS, AND DO IT!'

So I did. I got up, bashed my head into the luggage compartment, started cursing, tried to compose myself, and went over to her. With shaking hands I just said 'May I give this to you?'. She looked at me wondering what I would want of her, but she took it. I went back to my place, sat down (still shaking) and tried to see how she would react. The reaction was very simple: One of the most amazing smiles I've ever seen. One of those that warms your heart, while at the same time showing that she was flattered.

Then the train stopped, she got up, we wished each other a nice evening and she took off. She's got my name, so if I've made a good impression, maybe she'll look me up on facebook, but that seems very unlikely to me. And I'll probably never know her name...

But I did it! It was one of the scariest things I've done in my entire life, but I imagined me doing it for a very long time now, and I've overcome my fears. I hope I might have given her one of those moments about which she might still be talking in 5 years. I know I'll never forget it, and for that smile to fade, a very long time will have to pass.