He sat, and he stared at the computer screen, wondering what she might enjoy reading the most. He asked himself what he thought.
How about something funny? No, she's really easy to make laugh. He smiled, because he kind of knew it was true. He loved that, because he loved making her laugh.
Something moving? Nah, said the critic in him. You couldn't write something moving without making it an epic, and you don't want to sit there awkwardly and wait to see what she thinks. He nodded in agreement. Nothing he ever did was really ever that simple.
Well, what about something romantic? And he laughed at himself, because he hardly knew the meaning of the word.
So, he sat, and he stared at the computer screen, wondering what she might enjoy reading the most.
He stood up out of the chair and went to his car, and drove to her house, and tapped on her window. He smiled when she looked out at him, groggy and surprised, and realized that he should never ask himself what to do. If he always listened,