Interrupted Thoughts of a Melodramatic Existence

Anxiety fills her. Like always. Small confined places never left her with any peace at all. She sits here, words rushing through her mind. Thoughts she can hardly contain. This is the last place she wants to be...the fact that she can write freely seems to be of little consolation at the moment.
She speaks when spoken to and never speaks out of turn. She is constant search of how to help. No one has ever expected her to be mad..or frustrated or even a trifle brash. It would be contrary from her nature..from what they have seen at least.
He walks in, unbeknown to her presence. But she notices him. Suddenly a feeling of uneasiness settles among her. 'Oh this is juvenile' she thinks to herself...nothing has changed in the last few seconds she has sat here wasting away her life. Except him. She doesn't even know him....and it's doubtful he is aware of her existence. What's the big deal. Her cheeks are flushed...radiating with heat. She realizes she is fidgeting, messing with her hair and has found it almost impossible to sit still. What is her problem?
Rantings of a hopeful integrity are like flashes in the night. Something she might of said to him-perhaps in passing...she isn't sure now. All that pervades her mind is the unambiguous grin that marked his face as she spoke. As if to say, "wow....I didn't know women like you existed." How amazingly ignorant does that sound? She is sitting here in a room absolutely full of stories and she herself cannot even get her own words in order long enough to spew them on a page.
It's not even as if he is God's gift to women...let alone her. On many occasion she has found herself annoyed with his infantile behavior. And yet some how he seems to get to her...under her skin. In the mornings she finds herself taking a double take in the mirror and at loss for words whenever he looks her way.
It seems to her that whenever she gets this way she looses any hope of knowledge she might have had and just becomes a babbling idiot.
She is constantly reminded of the lack of time she has these days and realizes this little tale must come to a close for now. Perhaps in the future her words will be more thought out and less chaotic. One could only hope.