oh ok, I’m not going to lie, I’m the worst at approaching...

I’m not going to lie, I’m the worst at approaching anyone I’m attracted to. It’s for that reason that I hope my future husband is at least somewhat of a go-getter. Because even if I’m desperately infatuated with him and secretly hope it’s his shift every time I walk to the corner store by my house and maybe do my hair just in case I see him, there’s not a chance in hell I’ll be able to say anything other than “hey, how are ya?” while simultaneously blushing and avoiding all possible eye contact, fumbling as I put away my wallet just to realize the handful of change I’m holding that goes in said wallet.