Well, this is it. The moment I’ve been waiting for…ummm…
Why am I not just going for it?
Seemingly forever I have been attempting to muster the courage to ask this girl on a date, and here I am, at the door of the coffee shop in the rain, and I can’t bring myself to open the damn door.
Come on, if you’re late this will be for nothing…
So I did.
Timidly I grasped the doorknob and pulled the door open as quietly as I could, which was quite the feat with that old, red, battered wooden door. I crept in and was immediately greeted by the scent of coffee and the sound of Frank Sinatra’s golden voice over the radio.
I had always loved this coffee shop, it’s been here forever and I figured it would be the perfect “first” date. I use that word ironically because this is the first date of us starting over.
The red brick walls were adorned with various paintings by various local artists, always a classy touch. The waxy wooden floors reflect a faint light, and the furniture had been rearranged to complement the wideset window’s view of our main street. The music was soft, but not too soft that the sound of the rain drowned it out.
My description is mostly by memory, as nothing captured my attention after my eyes fell on her.
My date was sitting quietly by herself at a table, reading a book that the café provided it’s customers, which was ironic because she hasn’t yet ordered anything. She looked so calm, her chestnut hair falling into a low bun with strands along the sides of her face. She wore a thin black cardigan over her black and white striped dress. To match, a pair of black boots and black leggings, she always was very picky about matching.
As nice as she looked, I knew she couldn’t read a damn word of that book without her glasses, the woman was legally blind for Christ’s sake.
It was hard not to feel out-dressed, but that was common with her… I wore a black pair of jeans (the classic) and a white t-shirt covered with, what I thought to be a dressy dark-gray jacket. Unzipped for f a s h i o n. And a plain old pair of black Chuck Taylor’s.
Alright now move your damn legs skippy.
I approached the girl quietly, and did my best to make myself known before I got to the table......in other words I stubbed my toe on the stupid couch and caught her attention.
She closed her book and set it aside, wearing the most beautiful smile.
“Hey there.”
“Hi.” She replied sweetly.
Fond as I was of writing, I was no smooth-talker. Naturally I open with my usual nonsense that I’ll pound my forehead later tonight for.
“You do know it’s illegal to loiter here without buying something right?”
Smooth as a cactus with leprosy.
“M-me? Oh never!” She looked around without moving her head. She gets flustered very easily I should add. (Very adorable)
So I ordered us a couple of coffees, her a Mocha and me a French Roast Black, and took a seat across from her. We exchanged glances and looked away a couple of times like we’ve never spoken. She still gave the worst flutter in my stomach, and just looking at her I could boil the water for our coffee on my face.
She then broke the silence with, “So how are you?” As we often would greet each other with that very line. I paused very noticeably in front of her....
Just say it you sap.
“Better now.” I told her with a cheesy grin.
She let out a little, “Aww” before I asked her the same.
She replied, “I’m doing very well, thank you.” For context, we were strangely formal even when we were together, and although that seems odd from the outside, I wouldn’t change a damn thing.
After another brief pause, the music changed to soft jazz and the waitress set down our drinks.
This really was all I needed, just small talk with her and a nice coffee. The weather, the music, the smell, all were perfect. I’m a simple man, but I’ve spent many lonely nights missing this beautiful lady.
She really is here....
I looked to my cup, red-faced with a dumb smile on my face.
“You um…” She looked back up. “You look very pretty today.” I said, observing as her face lit up. She thanked me timidly, burying her face into her hands in embarrassment.
Picking up her cup, she made her way to my end of the table, to which I stood up and pulled a chair for her without hesitation.
Upon sitting back down into the metal-framed chair, she wasted no time resting her head on my shoulder.
. . . . . . . . .
It feels nice… having her this close again… probably doesn’t mean anything though…
“Are you sleepy?” I asked, laying my head on hers. She was warm.
She nodded her head and spoke softly, “I didn’t sleep very much last night.”
“Why is that, is everything okay?”
She nodded slowly again, “Just excited for today.” And with an inferno in my face I held in the most fan-girl-over-a-boy-band scream you could think of, but instead I nestled my head against hers and remained quiet.
Finally, I admitted, “I really have missed you a lot you know…” which…sounded a lot sadder out loud.
Idiot.
But relief settled in when her gaze met mine and she said, “…me too…”
If not for another silent pause, I might not have noticed that the patter of rain on the window has come to a halt.
She’s so perfect…
I then had the bright idea to ask for to-go cups and take her to one of my favorite places, one I would visit frequently to listen to music, draw, or just get away for a little while.
On the walk there she had inquired once or twice about where I was taking her, to which I’d insist, “it’s a surprise, don’t worry your pretty little head.” (Anything to get her to smile.) She would also do many things that warmed my heart, like hug my arm or synch footsteps. Eventually, I was brave enough to grab her hand, to no objection at all, just a grin.
After a blur of buildings and cars, and one stolen jacket later, we had arrived. Across from the tall bridge, a clearing surrounded by tall green grass still wet from the rain, dense trees, some large rocks, and scattered shrubs, all illuminated by the falling sun which was now slightly peaking through the dark clouds. Absolutely perfect.
We sat on two large rocks which were laid side by side. My jacket was long enough on her for the wet stones not to dampen her clothes, and me? I didn’t care, so long as she was comfortable.
And like that, we remained until dark. Conversing about what’s happened in our lives, our dreams, ambitions, and various other forms of small talk. We would occasionally share close moments, like we did at the coffee shop, but nothing wildly romantic. It was just....sweet. We were content with each other’s company, and our time apart only did us good, giving us time to mature. I couldn’t ask for more than that, or so I thought…until,
“So. . . .are we going to do this again some time?”
…Now if only we really did start over..
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