Page 10 of Perfect Date
Nope, nor any other reason whatsoever.
At a table across the way I see the couple that I helped one night, well tried to help one night this past winter, when they were on the side of the road during a snow storm. They had a Christmas tree attached to the top of their vehicle and as I drove up behind them parts of it were falling off right and left. They were laughing at the situation, declared they were fine, would figure it out, and declined any help.
They don’t notice me, too wrapped up in their own conversation, sitting side-by-side instead of across from each other at the table. The look on their faces is clear - they are deeply connected, likely in love, and I feel a twinge of envy in my gut at the sight.
I know why.
It’s because I want to fall in love. Since I was a little girl, I’ve been in love with love. There isn’t a fairytale story I haven’t read, and the number of romantic movies I’ve seen are innumerable. From my earliest age, they’ve had the same effect. Whether reading a book or watching a movie, I would imagine myself as the princess or heroine. I’d be admired, fawned over. I’d close my eyes, picture my lips being the ones kissed, or hearing the words of love from the prince or charming suitor.
Some would say I have unrealistic expectations - that books and movies aren’t real. I’m told that such chivalrous romantic men do not exist and that love like that is totally unobtainable. I’ve heard that the only men who desire to fulfill the desires and dreams of his beloved exist in animated films. I’ve been told that such thinking will only end in disappointment.
But I’ve not given up hope. I mean, how can the naysayers be accurate when late at night, when it’s quiet and I’m lying in bed, I can close my eyes and imagine what such a relationship is like or what he looks like? How can their opinion be true when the details are there as soon as I let myself think them?
He makes me laugh easily, is someone I can confide in, tell anything and everything to. Someone I don’t have to hang out with every day but want to. We enjoy life, even the simple things are special. Someone that gets me and knows what I’m going to say just by looking at me, a smile or smirk at each other saying all we need to know. Simply, it’s someone that loves me, for me. Without judgement, not wishing to change me in any way, and unconditionally accepts me- faults, quirks, and all. Someone that makes me know I’m enough.
His face? Well, that part of him is blurry, the details just out of reach no matter how hard I try to bring them to mind.
I know he’s out there though. That person just for me - I’m not willing to accept anything less. I don’t want to let go of hope. Seeing the couple across from me, makes me hold on to hope tighter.
Not wanting to be caught staring, I pull my phone out and scroll through social media while I wait. I scroll past photos of food, various status updates, and photos of people’s children, until one makes me pause. It’s as if thoughts of the right man for me, immediately makes the one that I found out in a painful way wasn’t for me appear. The photo brings feelings of sadness mixed with confusion, disappointment, and just plain old jealousy. My former boyfriend, Drew. The photo I stare at shows him with his arms wrapped around his girlfriend. They’re smiling ear to ear and there’s a sun setting behind them creating a gorgeous view of the lake they’re standing near.
Drew.
My first boyfriend, and the first and only boy I’ve ever loved.
We started dating in high school. He asked me out one day in chemistry after we laughed so hard having mixed some ingredients together incorrectly and smoking out the whole classroom. We easily progressed into a carefree, uncomplicated relationship, and a solid dating life. We had the same group of friends, hung out constantly, and I foolishly thought we’d be together forever.
I was wrong.
One night, after we’d been dating for a handful of years, he took me out to dinner at a really nice restaurant. It was a new place in town, the kind where you needed to make reservations and dress up. I recall they had a wine list with some bottles that cost more than my weekly salary. Given our small town, the date was an event in itself and I was really excited to go with Drew - in fact, I thought he was taking me there specifically to propose.
I looked amazing that night. I’d bought a new dress that hugged my generous curves, wore my hair in curls that floated softly around my face, and even got a fresh manicure and pedicure. The whole evening as he made idle conversation, I sat on the edge of my seat, anticipation and excitement making my belly flutter at the thought of hearing those magical words come out of his mouth.
Needless to say, I wasn’t expecting those words to be, “I think we should see other people”. He broke up with me over a decadent dessert of crème brûlée right after a mind-blowing dinner of the best steak, roasted fingerling potatoes, and brussel sprouts I’d ever had. The food ended up being the best part of the night - looking back at least I got something from the evening.
I never did go back to that restaurant; the bad memories made the very thought of the place crinkle my nose like the smell of the road when you drive past where a skunk has freshly sprayed the air.
I still find what I now believe to be his prepared speech perplexing. As he first began speaking, I thought he was going exactly to where I anticipated. He began by talking about how we’d been together a long time, how he valued me, cherished the great memories we’d created over the years, and how fortunate he was a better person because of the special contributions I’d made to his life. He said he’d ‘treasure them forever’. When he finally dropped the bomb I have a vague memory of staring at him for a while, the words taking a moment to compute. I verbally stumbled to respond, finally demanding an explanation and begged to know what happened, where we went wrong. He simply reaffirmed his previous statement of wanting to see other people. That he was far too young to be ‘tied down.’ I recall some crap pronouncement about him wanting to sow his wild oats. Who even says that? And why hasn’t my brain done me a favor and just blocked that part out? It’s nearly as horrible to remember now, as it was hearing it then. And I’ve never understood what really happened, where things went wrong or his choice of venue for such an announcement.
In the weeks and months that came after the dinner from hell, it became clear that Drew didn’t want to play the field at all - he wanted to see a particular woman instead. The girl he immediately began dating is the one he’s still with currently. Smiling at me from my phone, her face pressed up next to his, their arms wrapped around each other, they look quite happy, comfortable. Maybe he did want to date around, I guess I don’t really know, but it’s clear that the cold hard truth is that I wasn’t the one for him. I confess it’s occurred to me that maybe Drew met Brinley - which is such a stupid name - before he broke up with me, but I’ve chosen not to think about it for long; it doesn’t do me any good anyway.
Truth be told, I’m torn – I cared for him and in part, am glad he perhaps has found his someone, is happy, but confounded that I haven’t. I feel that same old twinge of irritation, hurt and jealousy that I’d like to believe is gone, but hits me squarely in the gut. I’d like to pretend that I don’t care, that it doesn’t concern me. But it was significant; it did impact me, and in part factored into my decision to move.
Not long after we broke up my uncle contacted me about working for him at Mason Creek Dental. All I could think about was how it would be a fresh start. It would be away from hurtful memories that were everywhere I turned. There wasn’t a place I could go that didn’t have memories of Drew in some way. Just thinking about running into him and his new girlfriend, well it made me pack my boxes all the more hurriedly. My mom smartly warned me that running away wasn’t the answer, and she was right. Even at times like this my erupted emotions verify that there are still facets of unresolved feelings from that situation I’m still working through, but I still stand by my choice to move and I don’t regret it.
Sighing deeply, I look at the time and then place my phone down and look around the restaurant once more. I arrived early again, just the way I like it. I’m already more than halfway through tonight’s drink of choice - a cranberry vodka - and even though I already know the menu pretty well, I look through it to see what I want to eat this evening.
Settling on the potato skins appetizer, I again glance at my phone to check the time and see my date is now twenty minutes late. I contemplate next steps and just as I pull up Kimberly’s text thread so I can tell her she can relax and not worry about needing to bail me out tonight, I’m startled by someone suddenly appearing next to the table.
Looking up, I expect to see an apologetic Eric, but I feel my eyes widen when instead I find Justin standing there, “You’re back,” he says with a wide smile as he picks up my empty glass. “Looks like you need another drink.”
“You’re here?”
“Ah, looking for me, were you?” That dark eyebrow of his lifts up and I secretly wish I could do that too. I don’t comment on his statement, but he doesn’t care; his smile, if possible, only widens at my silence. “I just got here,” he says by way of explanation. “What are you drinking?”
“Cranberry vodka.”
“A classic,” he nods. To my surprise instead of walking away to get me a refill, he sits across from me. “I have to admit I’m surprised to see you.”
