WLW. You (brunette, white beanie saying god loves ugly, great style) sat across from me on the L train for a little while, I was the blonde reading my textbook for class. I kept getting distracted but I swore we were making eye contact on a couple of different occasions. I brushed it off, and tried to focus on my book thinking you were too pretty for me/maybe you weren?t queer/I had other things in my life going on, but I kept getting the feeling I should talk to you. You eventually pulled out a book on the legalization of marijuana and I didn?t want to distract you from your book after I was done with mine. I got off the train and at union square and immediately regretted not saying something, anything to you. I think you?re really pretty, and I hope I find you somehow.