His heart is beating rapidly by the second. He starts wondering if he’s going to have a heart attack. At twenty seven is it possible? It probably is. Nothing surprises him anymore. He looks around to see if anyone can see how nervous he is. Of course, no one in the vast room takes note of how agitated he really is. There’s so much noise. How will he find his voice and tell what he feels in all this ruckus?
She looks at him in between deciding what to order and asks, “Are you ok? You look kind of lost.”
He replies, “Of course. I’m just tired.”
After placing the order she rambles on about small talk and he relaxes as he enjoys watching her talk.
Why does he love her so much? Is it her big brown eyes? Her straight silky brown hair? Her full lips? She has a good body not enough to be considered hot but definitely enough to make heads turn if she decides that is what she wants.
She can still make heads turn even without dressing up. She's beautiful. But that's not the reason why he loves her. He believes it’s her simplicity, her honesty, her desire to have fun and to enjoy the moment that made him fall in love with her. She is in so many ways what he wanted in his woman yet in so many ways she’s not. Her carefree yet caring nature can make even the most stone hearted peoples demeanor change. He notices he’s been silent for too long. He does what he’s good at, asking open ended questions and allowing her to talk some more, “How’s work?”
She responds with a frown in mid sentence and shrugs. Flicking a strand of stray hair from her ponytail. Yes, she still ties a ponytail. Something which most girls refuse to do in public now. She starts talking about work and the ‘torture’ that’s inflicted on her with such animosity one would think she works for Hitler himself.
Dinner is served and she speaks some more about work but starts commenting on the food as if she is an expert cook herself. He had the misfortune of tasting a dish she had made and swore to never give her that chance to cook again. Not if he wanted to live to see another day.
He smiles at her some more remembering the time they had spent together in the kitchen when she was boasting about her culinary skills. He watches her animated expressions when she starts talking about things. She is so different from all the cardboard people he has to talk to day in and day out. She suddenly asks a question out of the blue, “Why is it that you don’t have a girlfriend?”
He’s stunned at this sudden change in the conversation.
“Why? What do you mean why? It’s because I haven’t-“
“Yes, yes, haven’t met the right girl yet. God! Is that the only excuse you guys can come up with? I mean. Come on! There are a million girls out there. I’m sure one of them is worthy of being your girlfriend material. Or did you chicken out and never confess what you feel to any girl?”
He blushes slightly.
“What crap! I would never chicken out. I mean, if you can find me a girl who’s like you then I’ll surely make her my girlfriend. Heck, I’d make her my wife!” He says with a wink.
It’s now her turn to blush.
“Oh please! Stop with this crap. Just tell me the real reason.”
He looks at her for a second then looks away. He starts thinking about how much he wants this woman in front of him. How much he wants to touch her, hold her, kiss her, and spend every day with her. He wants to be able to call her his. He wants to share the ups and downs of life with her. Be there to wipe her tears, be the reason for her to smile. He wants to be the one she turns to for help, advice, and companionship. He wants to see her first thing in the morning looking so innocent and unfazed by the day. He wants to be there hugging her to sleep squeezing her problems away. He wants her to be his wife, the mother of his children, the woman he can grow old with. He wants to be her everything, just like she is his everything.
She watches him lost in thoughts as he looks out of the window.
“Hello! What’s wrong with you? I asked you a question. How about answering it this century?”
“Well, the real reason I guess is that I don’t want to have a girlfriend because the one I want is someone I can’t have.”
“You little wuss! There’s no such thing as ‘someone I can’t have' you need to grow a pair and tell the girl you love her.”
He looks at her intensely in silence.
She opens her mouth to say something but just stops.
There’s a moment of silence.
The waiter clears their plates. Watches them look at each other then asks, “Would you like dessert?”
There’s still silence. She looks at the waiter and nods a no.
“Should I get the cheque sir?”
He nods without removing his eyes off of her.
She shifts in her chair. Looks around the restaurant and starts talking about something random.
He looks at her sadly and fakes a smile pretending to listen to her. She insists on splitting the bill and they get ready to leave so he can drop her back home.
There’s a stifling aura throughout the drive back home. She turns the radio on. Fiddles with it for sometime then switches it off cursing as to how there’s never anything good on it. She tries her best to keep a conversation going between them but he continues to remain silent and make it a one sided effort.
They reach her house. They sit in silence. Before she gets out of his car, she looks at him, clears her throat and says, “I’m sure there are a lot of girls out there that would want to be with you. I know whoever you end up with will be a very lucky girl. It’s late; I have to call up my sweetie and get up early for work tomorrow. Take care. See you around.”
He stares at her with hurt in his eyes and watches her grimace some more under his gaze. He realizes that he’s said too much. A sinking feeling in his heart takes place. Suddenly there’s not enough air for him to breathe. He watches her get out of the car a little too quickly. She doesn’t turn back to wave goodbye as she always does. He accepts with a broken heart that she’s probably not going to see him again after today.
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