Let it be said that I do not always do stories which are all doom and gloom. This one is, shocker, a pure romance story. Served to you a couple of days before the day of couples, Valentine’s Day.
I hope you enjoy this tale. It’s called:
It’s Kind Of Awkward
The thing about her was that I knew. I did not think I could know. It was astonishing. Flabbergasting to even comprehend that such a person could exist.
But, there she was. Standing there, and looking around with big eyes, and I just…melted. A little ball of wax in my heart moved to liquid. A slow thing gliding down my chest.
And then came the real problem. And, truly, it was a problem. Because, in that second, I also knew I had to make good on a promise I made to myself. I had to talk to her. And, more than with any person before, that was nerve-racking.
Here’s the gist: I don’t do flirting. Personal rigid specificity of qualities for romantic interest makes it so while all the other hormone junkies rode that bull and had to talk to anyone who struck their fancy, I had no one to strike my fantasies.
A person told me it would be “heady” when I met the right person. That I would find them.
I didn’t believe. Well, fuck, there, like I said earlier, she was. Standing at the café, looking around kind of confused, like she was searching for someone. A few people milled past her, one bigger man going to get food. Someone chatted off at the small wooden tables.
But she did not notice it, at all. She stood and drew closed her shoulders for a second and then walked up to get water. And Christ All Fucking Mighty I knew that meant I had to talk to her right then.
But how…how did I even do such a thing? She was new. And I’m me. And unlike every other time I’ve gone up to a girl and talked to her, this person was what I wanted, physically at least. And when she turned and spoke, she was more than just my type.
“Hey,” I tried, “You’re new here, right? I haven’t seen you around?”
Okay, I lied, I do flirt. But this is what passes as it for me.
But she turned and did something I did not expect from any girl ever. She smiled at me like I was a welcome sight. Heck, she went further than that with a look. She observed me like she’d been trying to find me personally.
“Hey,” she said, and her eyes caught me. Brown, this intelligent brown. She had this youth to her face, this roundness. And yet clear age in the body and in her assuredness. It was, and is, hard to explain.
“Yeah, I’m new here. My friend told me to come here.”
“Oh,” I said, “Who’s your friend?”
She sipped some water and waved away the words. “Oh, you don’t know her, I bet. Don’t bother with that part.”
And, that, then, there, was when I knew for certain. She had this lilt, this sarcasm. And she was gorgeous. By God, perfect.
And I smiled, inside knowing one thing for certain. I had to snap this girl up, right now. Because too many of the people who I could love were already taken. And, this girl, and she did turn out to be single, was not getting away without me at least trying for a date.
But, in that moment, I said the one thing I knew was the right thing to say:
And what followed, well, that’s another story. But one I’m eager to tell. And so is she. It’s ours to tell. An expansion. A plural version of what we individually used to be.