The Introvert’s First Date
He was my first date – ever. This boy with grey eyes and thin lips. My first impression of him is that he stands like Joseph Gordon-Levitt. He really isn’t the tall, dark, and handsome kind but he carries himself very well. He has a strong handshake and a great eye contact. I met him at a work event, had a very short talk about work which ended about work. I didn’t really give it any meaning. In fact I didn’t even recognize it.
A couple of days after, there was a glitch in my email to him and it bounced back. I looked at his card, found his mobile, and texted him that morning. I was eating lunch when I looked at my phone peering a missed call. Then there was this text; he corrected his email address and well… Asked to grab a drink. I nearly choked on my burger. I read it again. Damn. It’s real. He really asked. I found it really funny that he’s got really no idea of who I am – of how reserved and introverted I am when it comes to this kind of thing. What he didn’t know is that… He was the first one, who ever had the guts to ask me out. That boy.
It took me hours to reply. It was a busy work day and it didn’t help that my brain was not functioning correctly. I was wearing a red dress, and I felt like my face was the same color for the rest of the day. My heart beat on a continuous, incredibly fast pace making me wish I was losing pounds at the same time.
It happened on a Monday night. (Yes, I said yes.) I dressed up quite nicer than my usual but the nerves just messed it all up. I even tried to read a book while waiting for him, and I didn’t even finish the FIRST line (and I’m a total bookworm).
He was late (I understand, the traffic is usually bad and it was a work day), he smoked (a lot which I let go, but normally I don’t), and I felt like we’re just two very different people with very different lives. Despite the contrast though, my naturally curious side was piqued. Of course, there were points which we agreed to and overall it was okay, but there’s something in him I can’t really point my finger on which made me shoo my little safety fairies aside. After, he said that we should do it again and smiled. I thought, ‘Oh wow. How to flirt.. How to flirt?.. Hmm. Shoot. Was I absent or sleeping when they were teaching about this?’ It ended with a cheek-to-cheek kiss, stubbles pricking my skin. Elated.
That night before I slept, I was my usual cerebral self. I turned off my feelings, calculated risks and predicted results. I told myself, ‘Nah. He’s just going to be a friend.’ In the morning, I woke up in the pale blue light that was spreading across the ceiling. Eyes wide, the truth blatant — he was the first thing on my mind.
It was a point in my 23 years on earth that I really wondered about being in love. What does it feel like? To want to be with someone other than myself, sacrificing my sacred alone time? Did I miss too much not having young love? Will I ever fall in love with someone? I don’t know what it feels like, I have no idea how it goes, I don’t even know if what happened is what you call a date. Surprisingly, I have no real preview of what it feels like to be in love.
My silent and content, single world was shaken when I risked my first Yes with a stranger I have only talked to for just five minutes. My mind cannot grasp what I’ve done, but deep inside, there’s this silent knowing — it was a risk worth taken, and no matter how I talk myself out of it, I don’t regret giving him that. My first Yes would always be his.
There’s something about him and the time that made me want to say yes, and that same thing makes me want to say yes a second time. Though, I’m not sure how it will go. I feel like my shyness (and my being naively dense) as an introvert has gotten the better of the situation. But no matter, I am nothing but grateful to the boy who awakened my slumbering self – the part of me who’s willing to risk fear, try a new adventure, break expectations, welcome hurt, and mend a broken heart. The very same part of me who I’ve been keeping safe from the reality of falling in love.