Dearest N,
Hi, I’m G.
Hi, I’m N.
Nice to meet you.
You are my first ever online date. I dipped my toes into the unpredictable sea of online dating with you being my unknowing first. We didn’t have a great date, but your first is never going to be that great. You were nevertheless polite, handsome and someone who I instantly trusted. Years pass and I talk about our date has a funny anecdote of what not to do.
I saw on you the street once and our eyes met, you were with someone else so we didn’t say hello. Then again, I doubt we would have greeted each other had you’ve been alone.
2 and a half years pass. I’m not sure about you, but I’ve dated, gotten into casual relationships, gotten into a serious relationship. But alas, they soon made their way to the relationship cemetery. As my feelings for my ex-boyfriend (G) waned, it felt almost like a natural progression to download dating apps. They feel like a familiar yet sometimes tiring friend, that we all regrettably yet unashamedly have.
Funnily enough, you appear on my screen. I almost instantly laugh audibly. I accept your request. Hey, haven’t we met before? We chat like old friends catching up on life, it’s nice, it feels like seeing a friendly face in a crowded bar. You provide a form of relief from conversations with strangers. There is no need to introduce ourselves, talk about what we do for work nor need to come up with witty lines to impress. It’s nice to talk about how much we both have done since seeing each other. A couple of months pass by, we chat a little. My friends are chuffed that we’ve reconnected, but I don’t really think too much about it. We didn’t really get along the first time, the second time won’t be any different, I’d say. This is the love story, we’ve been waiting for. You can just see this being played out in the movies. I roll my eyes.
Then after a summer overseas, I’m back in the city. You happen to text and ask whether I’m back. I am. You ask whether I want to have a drink the next day. I say, sure, why not? I’m slightly hesitant and do wonder what you want. My curiosity is mostly the reason why I agree to meet.
On a rainy night, you appear from the darkened streets with a hesitating yet warm wave. We greet with an awkward hug. Our height difference is most evident, reminding me of how tall I thought you were the first time we met. Perhaps, it is just because I’m tiny. You, always polite, immediately extend your umbrella over me. Let’s go.
We walk to my favourite pub. So, how long as it been?
Maybe it was the dimly lit streets or the fact that I was more focused on our conversation, but it was only in the light of the rowdy pub, do I realise, we both are dressed completely in black with down to our black leather boots, I chuckle to myself. I want to go there mainly because it’s where I feel comfortable. Like everybody else, online dates always make me nervous, so going to a place where I feel safe, where I’ve made nothing but good memories in, makes sense to me. We do have good banter though there were times I could honestly feel both of us trying to think of the next topic to talk about. I think it is safe to say our conversation is vastly superior from our last one. It feels the way the second date always feels. We both are more relaxed, yet, still quite eager to please. Less polite, more laughs and much more inappropriate topics. Thank you alcohol, you are always the best social lubricant.
We walk to a bar, you think is nearby. But you realise how far it was from the pub, so we walk to get the car. On the way to the car, we see an interesting building and again my curiosity gets the better of me. The building stripped of any solid walls and instead is encased with glass. The building was well lit as there was an event going on. As we walk up to its glass doors, they immediately swing open, as if the building itself wanted us to overcome our hesitance. I take that as a sign and immediately walk confidently in. You are a little wary, but the building is far too intriguing for you to linger behind. I almost instantly, like a child, press the button for the lift. You look completely thrilled yet immensely nervous about getting caught, so you hide yourself on the side. I, on the other hand, position myself where the doors meet, ready for whatever or whoever the lift will throw at me.
Ding! I look at you, and you look worried about getting caught.
I laugh.
The lift is empty.
We walk in. Mirrors on each side surround us. Top floor please! There are only 3 floors.
Before I get a chance to take in what we both are doing, my view of us in the mirrors becomes obscured by your chest. You stand so close to me, before I get a chance to fully decide whether or not I want to, I lift my chin up, tiptoe, and our lips greet each other quietly. It was as if, our lips themselves felt a little nervous about their own introduction. It was quick, polite, clean and warm. Hi.
Ding! Just as our lips part and we step away from each other, also as though we need time to process this, the door opens and I walk out first with you trailing behind.
Microhaemorrhages 