I was really anxious, scared. I hadn’t made effort like this in years . I hadn’t ever been on a date ever, not a one to one, face to face, you sit in front of me and I sit in front of you.
It was very personal, and it was hard to make eye contact. I’d never been to this side of town never been able to afford it, it was as if the world wanted us there that evening. It was quiet, calm beautiful summers night, and if that wasn’t a recipe to fall in love, then I was under the wrong illusion.
Birds flocked off into the evening sunset. Even the church bells rang, perhaps it seemed I was more focused on the surround and not you but that really wasn’t the case. I knew this was me being put on the spot and I knew this moment that I was enjoying so much was about to end as the night went on.
I’d been having writers block, but now I’d fallen back in love with the world, thanks to you.
I watched your hands for the first part tapping on the table pushing the box of cigarettes,not completely to me, but enough to suggest an offer. I felt your eyes on my face but was to shy to look up.
You knew I wasn’t a heavy smoker, or really a smoker but I liked a cig.
We spoke about abandonment the time you went on holiday and was let down by a friend , laughed at how long ago it was because of our ages.
You wanted to move on, I liked the sound of the bells, although I kept telling you it was strange and annoying, I was actually fairly comfortable.
We moved on to another pub nestled in between buildings , private, small , cute , quiet and beautiful. I appreciate architecture and outdoor space, we sat down outside and it was nice. Even if others described it as a dive or something, it didn’t bother me.
You stopped me and you said before passing me my drink, I really need to tell you something. My heart started spinning and I thought I got rid of my anxiety but it slowly started to come back, I thought shit he’s going to say he loves me or something, nah not yet surely, and I’m not thinking that already? Am I?
“You really need to tell me something?”
“I wanted to say it now incase I get drunk and you think I’m just saying it because I’m drunk. You look really beautiful your gorgeous”
Oh my god, I smacked my lips right on your lips and kissed you so hard so you knew how much I liked you.
That’s what I should have done, but I didnt I blushed and said thank you very much and I really appreciate being taken out and spending time with you.
I fucked up didn’t I, I was so anxious for a long time I didn’t even get chance to tell you half the things that was going on.
See I may have never been on a date before, but I’d been round plenty of men, boys , dickheads, users, bastards to know when people pull a stunt. You wasn’t pulling a stunt you was being normal, friendly, a gentleman.
This time I wanted something real, meaningful and you was just, I mean I know no ones perfect but a least those moments made it feel as though it was meant to be.
So we was in the pub and we got talking but not much to each other to the girls sat opposite to us, they was tourists, drunk friendly people.
Drank up, pissed about in the street looking for the worlds smallest window and got a taxi back.
I remember punching myself because I still hadn’t kissed you but congratulating myself on having the courage to make it out the front door.
Now both actions I replay in my head 3 months on, did I? Should I? To most of you it’s easy to say get over it , stop going on, stop bringing it up, stop moaning. If you have a friend who suffers or has suffered with anxiety to the extent that I can it really doesn’t help even if you don’t mean to.
I can’t, it happend and I will discuss it because it happend and it happend to me and it was important.
I felt emotions I hadn’t felt since forever, and I mean the good ones.
I was seeing blue in the sky even when there was impetuous rain, I opening mail and dealing with it. I was wearing makeup and enjoying wearing makeup, I was scared, terrified. But on top of the world.
I’m still scared and terrified but at least then it was a nice scared and terrified feeling, now it’s the real deal.
Because the world dealt me a different card really quickly, and the last time I felt this low, I was 21 years old signing my grandad DNR papers with noone else in the room, no one else to lean on and no one else to ask for an opinion.
I was 17 sat in a hostel on a sofa bed on the floor being told to write a letter on the back of recycled paper, to the man who had been abusing me for 2 years telling him why I left.
I was in the playground stood on my own, surrounded by faces I knew (but ignored me) being told on my mobile that my step mum was diagnosed with cancer again, year later she passed away.
I was on the front door step of my home at 16 trying to get back in but the doors had been changed.
I was the 10 year old girl sat on the bedroom floor crying in the corner holding on to a teddy I called ‘dig dog’.
I’m an observer, a listener, I’m quiet, never let on what I’m thinking. Not always. Told to shut up and put up and to not talk about my feelings. But now I am, and that’s pretty fucking powerful.
You said goodbye it was an amazing evening and couldn’t wait to see you next.