I should probably be sent to hell :)
I'm "exploring my options".
I use maximum of my Hinge matches for TRM. I don't even know why I still browse Hinge and send out/ accept match requests.
What I'm about to write should've been another entry.
I'm in the metro as I wrote this. I'm going home. I just had a date with Panther. And it was so perfect that if I describe it, it'll be as good as wasting words.
"Laughing on a park bench thinking to myself, "Hey isn't this easy""
He's it. The blend. He's beautiful. He's smart. He's been through shit. He speaks. He listens. He brains.
He exists.
I can't believe he exists.
We walked all the way to the garden. He went on and on about bikes and aircrafts. As I "hmm"ed my way through it all, I thought to myself, "ah shit he's gonna be 'Bike Guy'"
Little did I know that this was just the start of a dreamy afternoon.
We found the perfect bench. My finger grazed his. He recoiled. He reached. Our fingers moved and worked their way into each other. His calloused hand was warm and comforting against my cold, smooth one. Slowly, the hands slipped into one another. The conversation spiral drew out comfortably, as did the hands, until he had his arm around my shoulder and his other hand resting easily on my thigh. Waves of fuzzy warmth rushed across the surface of my skin. As the sun grew dull, the temperature dropped a degree or two. We had ended up on one corner of the bench.
"What time is it?," I asked,
"4:40," he replied
"It's so very late. But I don't feel like leaving sorry," I said, a little groan hanging on the edge of my voice.
"Likewise," he laughed.
I love the way he laughs. It felt like an achievement, every time he laughed.
He was hungry and we still sat there till 5.
It wasn't libido I felt running through my body when I held his hand. It was, but it was one of many things. I felt comfort. I felt surety.
But.
But.
But.
He's sailing away. In January. Or probably sooner. And he'll be back three months later.
I could feel the muscles of my grinning face fall when he told me that.
As I write this, my heart dips its toes in waters of melancholy. This is one of the times when you REALLYYYY want another date but you don't think the other person does too.
"So you're leaving away in January?," I asked on the metro, trying to keep the dismay out of my voice.
"Yep," he replied. That's it. Like he was talking to an acquaintance; which I am.
"For how long," I asked, my heart falling,
"Three months. I wish I could leave sooner though. So done with this place," he said, as we held hands.
I don't think he feels the way I feel.
I don't get it. I'm running the day through my head over and over again and I'm not sure I made an impression. I'd come with zero hopes and expectations you see. That was my stoic self talking initially.
I don't want to tell anyone about this; and that's now how it is usually. I run to my sister or my close friends whenever something new happens. I like sharing the littlest of things.
But this isn't one of them.
I'm going to get hurt, aren't I😀😀😀😀😀😀😀
Loading...