I sit in the Starbucks, waiting for your arrival. I’m early, so the wait is long to begin with. It feels longer because it’s our first in-person meeting. And you are my first date after my 24-year-long marriage ended. So, I’m rusty, to say the least. Each time the door chimes, I wonder if it’s you. My heart races, anticipating that the next person walking in the door could be you. I already like you a lot. More than is logical, when I haven’t even met you yet. But our texting conversation over the last few days has been like talking with an old friend. But with an edge or flirtation that is nice for the ego as well as for the heart. My phone buzzes and your message makes me laugh. “I’m lost.” Picking up the phone, I hit “call” and that’s when I hear your voice for the first time. We figure out how to get you from where you are to where I am and then, in a moment, you are walking through the front door.
coffee
my heart racing
first date
