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I'm working with the shoulda woulda couldas right now. It's been almost a month since I last saw GQ and I'm ashamed to admit my regrets have got the better of me.

I realised it yesterday when I found myself thinking: “it's been a while since I last saw him. If I would have known maybe I might have spoken to him the last time I saw him...“.

And then it happened. Suddenly thunder rolled over head, lightening cracked through skies, dry ice whipped around my ankles, and, before I knew it, I was in some out of body experience. Watching myself lie to my own damn self with disdain and incredulation. The truth was apparent. Regardless if he was right in front of me at that very moment, I knew there was no way in hell I would (wo)man up and make the approach I had deemed simple enough some minutes earlier.

Once body and mind had been suitably realigned, I found myself amused by bravado. How amusing, that when not faced with our fears and challenges, theoretically we can do the things “so easily". The moment the challenge (in whichever form that is) presents itself to be tackled, all of a sudden all bravado is gone. Ask me how I know. 

Later that day I was forced to face that same bravado. I was on my way home from work when I saw him. Getting on the bus and seeing him there was a trip!

I was certainly glad for the eyecandy, however, my bravado wouldn't let me forget the earlier thought. It chose to get up all in my face, taunting me with its harsh words, "Alright Ms. Thing... here's your chance. He's there.. go get him...".

As I stood motionless watching another opportunity pass me by, I endeavoured that day to have stern words with my bravado should it ever choose to make another premature visit like that again!

                                      Onyx Knight