So Little Time

Chapter 1:

I shouldn’t be taking a glass this early, but then again, I was nervous. Why was I nervous? Usually, I’m very composed, well managed, and dare I say it? Mellow. True, I might be a little rusty at this, give or take a few years, but… why was I so nervous? It’s just enjoying dinner with somebody. Hell, the last time I did something like this, I was enjoying it while the girl next to me was laughing and chatting about enjoying the time of it all. True, it might’ve been a double date, and if I recall right, the girl with me and her friend were mostly laughing at my brother’s jokes, but … it was fun. I’ll leave it at that.

I drank down the glass and needed another. Many have said it’s supposed to help the nerves, but I guess tonight the trick wasn’t working so well for me. I admit, I never was much of a wine expert. I never had the time. I had to spend so much time just to be dedicated to my work.

Hell, someone had to.

Surely not my brother.

The clock kept ticking, and when looking over from my table, I wondered, was she even coming? Asking her out was a bit hasty, and I know it was difficult for a whole disaster of reasons, but when I heard her say “yes,” I couldn’t help feeling something inside me. Something I wasn’t of sure for so long.

Pure absolute terror.

Why did I even ask her? Was it just to prove something? She was beautiful, but there was something else. Maybe it was just to prove myself. It’s been a while, now that I think about it.

Another sip and another moment pass. Beside me, the waiter checks in, only giving me a courteous nod. Nothing was said. Thinking it over, I could tell he was just doing his job, but in that split moment, I felt something else that I hadn’t felt in a while: Anger. I wasn’t in a fury, but I conveyed it well enough. The waiter just shook his head when walking away.

I don’t need pity.

I wonder what my brother would think. It bothered me while I was sitting there, looking out the dark window. It was his comments that steered me here. Why did I care about his opinions?

“Hey, bro. Look, you don’t need to bother yourself with finding a girlfriend. You’re great as you are.”

If he’d just said that, then maybe things would be different. But it didn’t end there. It never is.

“It’s alright. No matter what you feel for, I love you, bro. We’re always family.”

There was that pity again. Does that mean I have pride issues? I guess, but there was that infuriating tone in my brother and that tidbit of ‘no matter what’ that just stuck with me like black tar. Worse, it seemed more trying when he said all of that while I was the one behind the desk, working. He, on the other end was just sitting back, enjoying while gaining followers with a few good pictures. I guess I just didn’t have a face like his. Too serious. Too mature. Too honest.

The clock ticked, and I was down another glass of merlot. Maybe I should just call it. I didn’t need any more pity. I was about to leave until hearing the doors.

She walked in.

“Oh! So sorry for being late. I got held up on the way over here. I don’t want to go into details, but I’m just glad we get to talk again.”

When she appeared, I could feel a pit in my stomach grow into an abyss. I cracked a smile all the same. I was scared, but I held. I needed to be.

“No problem.” I said to her, “Please, let me get that for you.”

I pulled out the chair. I don’t care what people say. Being polite was key.

Besides, when she sat down, smiling, I felt one last thing before joining her: joy.

Call me a sap too for saying this, but when I looked into those dark eyes hidden beneath that band of indigo silk, decaled with swirling silver, I swore I could feel a butterfly dance over the abyss.

I wanted to enjoy the evening.

Strange. I asked myself. When was the last time I wanted to enjoy something?

Chapter 2:

I considered canceling the date and spare this guy the trouble, but… my mother insisted. It felt cruel but not in the way some people might think. My mother said that this date would improve my social skills and give me some more experience when dealing with men, but I don’t honestly think that was the issue. I already knew dating, and I already knew how to socialize; but to her, that wasn’t the point. It was all about severing things afterwards.

The cruelty laid there.

Mother wanted to make sure I knew how the game was played and essentially building up a dossier. For whose benefit, though, was debatable. I just knew that I should listen to mother. Always.

I’m not sure what dad would say. Odd. I should, shouldn’t I?

After a few minutes of chatting, building up the mood, I felt rubbing my forehead. I felt drained already. I was wondering whether to make the cut now or later. I just wanted to make everything quick. Better, I wanted it to be merciful. The guy in front of me might’ve been a little unusual then most men I’ve met, but he deserved some form of civility.

“You okay?” he asked, showing genuine concern.

“Yeah, no problems. … I’m just a little tired, that’s all.”

“Oh. Anything I can do? If it’s anything, we could-“

I stopped him there. “No… no. I’m alright where I am. I’m just…” I thought about it, considering if I should at least give him just a small sliver of what’s to come. It could ease everything. “Well, if you want to know, I’m just a little… embarrassed. My mother wanted to make sure I look nice, so she picked my look. She insisted I wear one of the old sarees.”

Have to say, he took it better than most men when first hearing about my mother. Even the best showed a little withdraw, but he honestly took it well. He even tried to give that awkward smile again.

“Well, your mother has fine taste. I rarely ever see real silk like that. Sets the silverwell. … Still, I’d like to know what you’d prefer.”

A good answer. Not perfect, but … it bought him some time. It made me consider cutting everything to a bit later.

Maybe it had to with his debonair. He was just a little older than most guys I’ve dated. He was by no means ancient or anything weird, but there was already that odd sort of elegance in him that rarely took roots in some men. It went beyond the black suit and gold watch. Any person could dress themselves. This went further.

It had to do with something in that thoughtful but precise face of his.

I could tell he’s been through a lot. Dark eyes, true stone overlooking a pit.

Those were traits that could never be acted.

Cute.

To say it lightly, I had a way of reading people. It can be a dreadful trick sometimes. I remember mother always had concerns, saying I can scare people with it. Maybe that was why she always insisted in being in my life.

We continued that night, just chatting and learning. A nice mood, but after a while I could hear mother in the back of my mind about this date. I could imagine her saying, “He’s trying too hard” or “He’s too quiet for you.”

She might be right. Maybe I should cut it here. With a little time, this would be over, and the guy here would be just another name on some unwritten list. But… I didn’t want to that. I wanted to spare the pain. Plus, after spending about an hour with him, I found cutting things quickly would be improper. He was a nice guy. A little preoccupied with his work and maybe a little too nervous, but I could read everything else about him by just looking. He was scared, and he was trying to prove himself. Question was, to whom?

“Hey, don’t take any offense, but you seem a little… cautious.” I tried a playful tone.

“’Cautious’?”

“Yeah. You seem as though you’re just filling out some kind of list.” It was true; he was. While talking, I heard him ask me every cheap question and romantic conversation starter, doing so like a rank amateur. My guess, he memorized some advice someone gave before even reserving the table.

“It’s just a feeling.” I added, playing sweet.

He kept a good face when answering. “I… well… I got some help from my brother. He’s been on far more many dates than I.”

Bullseye.

“Really?” I then gave a small chuckle, lightening the mood again. “Well, do you think it’s helping?”

“You know, I don’t think so…”

There was a glimmer in him again when thinking. I kind of enjoyed seeing it. I noticed it a few times, noticing the hope in him. It felt good seeing that. But still, he reeked of fear. “… Maybe I should rethink this.”

“Maybe.” I then took a glass, enjoying the ruby liquid inside. “We can start over if you like, if you like. I’m now curious. Why are you trying so hard?”

He was odd. Very odd. I say this because after hearing me, he then gave a genuine smile. “I think you already know. So, can I ask you this: Why are you trying so little?”

It took me a moment. After finishing my glass of merlot, I looked back at him straight in those stone eyes of his.

It would be a shame to cut him away.

He was amusing.

I genuinely liked him.

Mother wouldn’t.

Cute.

Chapter 3:

My taste, like our chat, changed. I was enjoying the night, but not by what I thought would happen.

The woman before me was showing a different look, a different face that felt… sharper. Cleaner. She was cool, calculating, and attractive in all senses.

She was a lioness.

We went through a bottle of merlot that night but kept on talking. I wondered at points if this meant anything. Seemed so rare for me to ever find myself spending this much time with one person. Even rarer for not noticing until afterwards. Usually, I had to consider every task, every moment, all sat on my desk. Now it all seemed distant.

We laughed.

Maybe we had too much wine.

“You know, I’ve seen worse gents than you.” She said. “You’re odd, but it’s a nice kind of odd.”

“A boring odd,” I commented, rubbing my head, trying to loosen the tension in my skull.

“Possibly. But that can change. … Anything can change.”

I found this funny. It felt strange to laugh. “You so sure? I’ve known plenty of people in my time who would like to argue you.”

“Like your brother?”

Even with the wine, she was quick to remember.

So was I.

I remembered the silk.

“Or your mother?”

There was a coldness between each of us, yet it was very far from a bad feeling when sharing it with her. We both knew what the other was thinking and why we were sitting at the table.

Interesting.

It was only the first step, but at that moment, we both came to something. We weren’t sure to what to call it, but we both came concluded one thing. We understood the other.

We enjoyed one last glass.

We liked the other, dark eyes, true faces, and all.

Time will move on.

Lovely.