“When should I start dating again?” That is the question.
“Probably not less than a week after writing about how I miss my ex.” That is one answer.
“As soon as a cute guy asks me out.” That is another.
♥
“Am I ready to start dating again?” Perhaps a better question.
“Probably not less than a week after writing about how I miss my ex.” Again, is an answer.
“Let’s find out the hard way!” is another.
Guess which one I choose.
♥♥
I have a date tonight. It feels good to say! I like the way the words feel in my mouth. They’re sweet, refreshing, and smooth, like mango sorbet. A palate cleanser they serve at Indian restaurants to help a mouth move on from a chicken tikka masala dinner. A fresh start of a heart moving on from lost love.
We at an outdoor concert in Brooklyn. Over the soundtrack of a soul-stirring seven-piece brass jam band, we attempted small talk. What’s your name? Where you from? What brought you here? Wailing trumpets demanded mouths oh-so-close to ears, just for a hope of hearing answers. A shouted conversation soon abandoned. We gave up and just danced. Danced just the way I like to, with no regard of any other eyes watching, fancy-free from concerns of “cool”. He twirled me on the dance floor. My skirt went spinning, my heart went spinning, a girlish giggle cartwheeling from my lips.
The next song was a rift on The Doors classic, “Light My Fire”.
“Not my favorite Doors song,” claimed my dance partner, his hand on the small of my back.
“But it’s such a classic!” I cried, “What could you possibly prefer?”
“Oh, I’d say Whisky Bar. But maybe that’s just because I like whiskey,” he smiled.
I grinned. I’d had a gulp of whisky from my friend’s flask but moments before. It coursed its way through my system: warming my belly, clouding my mind, and lubricating my vocal cords.
“‘Show me the way to the next whiskey bar,'” I sang, as we danced to and fro. I paused.
“‘Oh, don’t ask why. Oh, don’t ask why,'” he picked up as I left off, not missing a beat.
I’ve never hoped for someone who finishes my sentences. I dread being so predictable. But someone who finishes my random outbursts of song? That’s long been a dream of mine.
♥♥♥
Ah, the time right before a first date! When hopes are high and logic low! I hardly know him at all, beyond his singing capabilities (and he does have a nice voice). He has the potential for everything and nothing. I’m simultaneously excited and atwitter with trepidation. I’m rusty, it’s been a while since my last first date. I can’t help but remember- I’ve been on many more first date failures than successes. But that doesn’t matter. It’s just a date. One I didn’t plan any aspect of accept my outfit! You can bet I’m wearing heels! Thus, it’s everything I wanted. Perhaps exactly what I needed? I’m not sure, but I’m about to find out.
Have faith Hon if is meant for you ,will be
hey !! let’s hear about it already!!!
The Song “Whiskey Bar” always reminds me of a certain Modern Drama professor explaining the concept of “Brechtian.” Did he use that example with you?