First Dance

I can't say 'it's getting crazy', because it's been crazy.  A few days ago was the most crazy ever.  Talking about daydream fantasies about F. 
I went back to a blog that I had found earlier this week, this head in the clouds, feet on the ground surfer yoga cali chick, that I had loved and gained inspiration from.  Living an inspired life: mindfulness, love, musician, yoga (a dream for my next life!)  From there I started thinking about Frank.  Maybe a rilke quote from her blog? it seemed perfect... (august 25th just hit me like a truck, I cried one of those good/bad cries in the bathroom) ...I really want to give him something, a doodle, a thank you note. 
But anyway, I was imagining pulling him aside, and talking to him, seeing how much I could lay everything out for him, being so honest and open and simply grateful for his being and not regretful that there would be no way he could shoot back daggers.  Yes, he may think I'm weird and do a 'back away slowly' move, but at least then I would know and we both could be done with this whole thing.
Would I ever do something like that? Probably not -I cringe to say that, because I'd like to believe that someday I will be defferent, more me- but this is why I don't think so: I saw Tara Price, julianna's mom, as I was going to pick up Kara, grabbing her stroller in front of the daycare.  Tara had the good-bye present photo for Miss Sue and... she was walking with him.  A thrill.  Too excitedly a hihowareyou to her, looking at him, smile... (They walked past and the soft way he asked her 'when was that picture taken' melts me as I think of it.) I was thinking, though I already lost my opportunity for it to seem somewhat along the lines of normal yesterday which was the first time I saw her next, that I would ask her his name.  But I couldn't think of her name.  I looked it up (I know:freak) in the daycare sign-in book this morning.  So know I'm thinking write her an email? If I ask her in person about 'last wednesday afternoon when you blah blah blah' will she remember? Is that definitely weird to ask so far away from when it happened? (no doubt revealing I've been thinking about it, him?)  I guess there's no denying that I'm hoping she'll talk about him, mention to him that I'm asking, maybe get interested and involved.  I know she's married with 3 kids, I even looked at the 'school quilt' of family photos just to make sure that it wasn't Frank standing with her and her girls.
So, I don't think I'll do anything 'drastic' (read: honest, open, free, approach him with heartfelt confessions, explanations, apologies and gratitude) because I don't have the guts to write an email, and doubt I will mention it to her in person -I can't decide which would be easier/harder/better/more normal.
The 'crazy' label appears when I'm sitting here in the morning thinking about us at our wedding, holding each other close, talking to each other in low, intimate voices during our 'first dance' telling each other how we can rest now, we have reached the end of a long road, we have found each other. I see that in him... this guy I hardlly know at all... his eyes, his looks, his exuberance changed to carefulness and reservation.  (I do sincerely owe him an apology.  I'd like to make him as happy as he had made me, once I had pulled my head out of my ass.  I'd like to give back to him, I am certain he deserves it.)
I can hear the tinny little voice in the back of my head ringing: You are so foolish.  Not just because it will very likely all come to nothing -you've felt this before over an intriguing stranger. (as strongly? or happily?, IDK. is there a difference between any of them?)  But also because if I push, and the 'disaster' as I call it, happens, hearts are broken (the only one I really care about is Kara's) and I get what I want: to be his, our relationship will be ever marred by the process of it.  Who can ever be expected to weather such a storm intact, let alone our heart's hope, our bright happy shiny view of each other, who can get through ugliness and outright brutality with poise and grace?  very few.