Tonight I had a little date with myself. I enjoy my food alone. I find that I helps me find peace and solace with my solitude. No conversations.
I was on a date with myself tonight doing what I enjoy most…breathing…sighing…eating…and people watching. Couples passed me by, bald men were running wild through the streets, girlfriends chat…and apparently all three of them were from the East coast. Girls who obviously have their biases and discrepancies with the west coast. It was a fairly quiet night that ended with a super boring movie.
Tonight I was witness to two lovers. I sat there quietly lurking noticing their body language and their intimate smirks. Two lovers with ethereal and shy smiles, folded arms that soon turn into an elegant fold over the thigh/knee area. There was nervousness and awkwardness that lasted throughout the dinner. It was that type of fresh feeling that sparks the images of love and everlasting friendship. His insecurity was all in his posture… slightly bent upper back soon rolls into a flirtatious confidence when posture becomes more upright. I wonder if this would last…
You can call me a romantic…I am actually a hopeless romantic…a tragic hopeless romantic heavily weighing in on the Old fashioned approach to a relationship. I am not envious of those that have had heartbreak, I am instead envious of those who gain strength from the aches and the pains exchanging the martyr complex into something stronger.
The two soon put on their jackets to leave…one insists on paying the bill…the other jokes and tells him that its much more than it is…coyly one states “No way??!Really!?!” …giggles ensue.. moments before the bill, “So do you want a 6 pack or wine?” Alcohol is obviously involved for the obvious but unobvious nervous tension to die off. His posture perks…his assumption could be that things are going well…They walked out the door both smiling both head down hands in their jacket…necks scrunched down to their warm coats braving the cold wind that waits for them.
Two men…walk together hand in hand on a chill San Francisco night.
It feels like a soft sea feather that tickles my insides when I think about the possibilities of love. I hope that it is not all fairytales. I feel that way with this career change. I don’t want my love to wane off with cooking.
A question we have to deal with is that in this day and age can love last? It seems like falling in love is often compared to having to jump off a pirates plank…down deep into the sea water.
Finally the waitress brings me my bill and I notice that my beer isn’t on the bill…$10.50… “Excuse me? You forgot my beer.” $14.50.
I’ll jump off that plank any day…as long as I learn how to swim.