A Little Variety

Saturday (1:55PM).

Now here I am. It's 1:55PM and I am shaking from nerves.

"Hey."

I whip around.

"Oh, hi."
"Your pictures really don't do you justice," he says and my heart stops beating. I feel like the world is fuzzy for a minute and it takes a second to collect my thoughts.
"Oh, um. Thanks. Same for you."

And his pictures don't do him justice. They really don't. I already know I am in trouble. We're here to just be friends. That's it. I think I am going to have to tell myself that every freaking second we spend together. He's holds the door open for me and I just stand there.

"Oh, sorry. Thank you."
"Nervous?"
"A bit. Can you tell?" I can feel my whole body shaking from nerves.
"Nah, you hide it well," he says as he smirks at me.

He's gorgeous. And I'm in so much trouble.

"You're funny."
He shrugs, "I try."

We go in. I love the aroma of coffee. It's intoxicating. Just like he is. Oh my god. I didn't just think that. I did. This is so not good.

"What do you want?" he glances in my direction as we stand at the café bar.
"Cappuccino, please."
"Two cappuccinos," he says to the barista.
"Grab a seat. I'll bring them over," he says to me.

I find a small table and chairs tucked in the corner. I don't know why I'm trying to be discreet. It's not like anyone is going to see us. It just feels like I'm doing something bad. It's not bad. Not yet.

In a few minutes, he comes to the table and hands me my coffee. "Your cappuccino, m'lady."
"Oh, um thanks."
"I brought over sugar, sweetener, honey--the works. How do you like your coffee?"
"Coffee, I like with a splash of milk and two sugars. Cappuccinos, I like just the way they come."
"Taking a mental note."

I grin. This is really nice. This is how I imagined my life. But with someone else. The person I'm supposed to be here with. Matt. I feel tears in my eyes.

He must take notice, because he puts his hand on my arm. "Hey, you okay?"
"What? Oh, yeah, sorry," I say as I brush the tears away.
"What's on your mind?"
"I just...I like this."
"Me too." He smiles and I feel a weight in my chest.
"It's just that I wish that Matt would be more like this."
"The boyfriend? And he's not?"
"No, not really." I shake my head and a tear rolls down my face.
"That's too bad," he says as he hands me a napkin. "But maybe he just needs more practice."
"That's if he would spend the time practicing. He practices everything else."

I start ranting and I can't seem to stop the thoughts from tumbling out of my mouth.

"It's just that we have been friends for almost ten years now. He was, well is, my best friend. We used to hang out with a lot of mutual friends when we were just friends, and we even spent a lot of time on our own, but as soon as we started dating, we only hung out with his friends. And then, it kind of seemed like he wanted to be as far away from me as possible. He always makes plans, and the only time that I get to see him is on our scheduled days. And even on those days, things come up. He tells me that we have discussed them, but I can't seem to ever remember our conversations about them. And I feel like maybe it's because I want to spend time with him and I assume I will see him on my designated days, so I imagine nice, long days with him just in my head. I guess I just wish he'd want to spend more time with me."

I take a deep breath after getting all that out. "Oh my god. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to let that all spill out like that."
"Don't apologize. I'm glad you got that all out. And it's kind of why I get to meet with you and why we're here, isn't it?"
"Yeah. And now I'm wondering if this was a good idea."
"I think it is. We're just two people having coffee."
"Cappuccinos," I joke, and the mood is lightened a bit.
"You're right, but still the same principle."
"I guess so. I just feel guilty."
"Why? He ditched you. For his friends."

My anger flares suddenly. He's right. I wanted to spend the day with Matt. We were supposed to spend the day together. And he ditched me.

"You're right."
"I'm just saying. But, I also understand why you're feeling guilty."
"You do? I mean I thought you did this type of thing."
He looks at me with a shocked expression. "I told you I didn't."
"Oh, I guess you're right. I just didn't think..."
"What? That I meant it? I did. I understand the guilt. But the day-to-day is hard too. When you imagine things one way..."
"And the reality is totally different?" I finish for him.
"Exactly."
"How long have you been feeling this way?" I ask, wanting to know more about him and his relationship. I feel like I've just been complaining about my own.
"How long have you?" He shoots back.
I glare at him while smiling, "Don't answer my question with a question."
"Sorry, talking about it is hard. But it's been about three years."
"Wow. That's a long time. How long have you been together?"
"Seven years."
"Wow that's even longer."
He runs his hands through his hair. "Yeah I know. And a man would probably figure his shit out and either stay fully or leave fully. But I can't seem to do either."

I don't know how to respond. Because it's exactly how I feel.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to get so emotional," he says apologetically.
"No, it's okay. I know what you mean. I feel really weak right now. And I know I'm not. Maybe we're just a little lost."
"And maybe we can help each other find ourselves again?"
"I like that."
"I like you."

My heart stops. I am so caught off guard.

"You...? What?" I look at him.
"Am I that bad? You look like you've seen a dead person."
"No. No. You're not bad. I just..."
"It was blunt. Sorry. I'm like that. And we've known each other less than a week. And I feel more comfortable with you than I've felt with anyone. It just came out."
"No. I mean. I know."
"You okay?"

Am I okay? No. I'm totally freaked out. But not in a bad way. In a good way. And that freaks me out even more.

"Um, yeah. I'm okay. Sorry."
"Don't apologize. I'm sorry."
"No, it's okay. Really. Can I be honest?"
"Yes."
"I liked hearing that. It definitely threw me off, but I still liked it. It's bad that I liked it. Isn't it?"
"Yes. But..."
"But."

We stay there for a few hours talking. It's really nice. And friendly. And that's it. Or at least that's what I tell myself. Because, there's a definite attraction, and although it's just nice to talk to someone who I feel actually gets me, I know that the attraction is dangerous.