Getting the lady, I desired when I was younger was quite simple. Most of them were the same. They wished to live the lives of princesses from fairy tales. I'm not claiming it's a bad thing, but men aren't princes, and relationships aren't all about happily ever after.
I remembered that all I had to do was be the prince she wished for, and everything would be alright. Although there were problems, each situation was quite simple.
Arguments come and go, and everything is settled at the end of the day. Everything is open for discussion. Every aspect of a relationship is both spontaneous and deliberate. Every chance I've got has been so simple for me to seize. But it was different with that one woman.
Women would roll their eyes if a man claimed to them, "I have never met such a woman before," believing that it was a sort of manipulation since women couldn't be misled in the late 1800s. In my situation, though, I have never met a woman like Irene. I've traveled to various places and met many women, but no one can ever make me forget her. Not just her, but also in
our predicament.
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I stopped by the coffee shop near my university on a scorching Monday morning. I was in my second year before I left Spain and continued my studies here. This was my second course. Photography. The first one was architecture. I came from a family of architects so I was left with no choice but to follow. I expected to like it more as time passed, but it never grew on me. I tried to work on projects related to my studies, but I quickly felt bored and uninterested. I gave it a chance, but it never worked. Now I'm doing what I actually enjoy. It gives me peace of mind. It's as if I'm constantly eager to learn and show something new.
While I waited for my name to be called, I glanced through some photos from my trip to Spain the week before. Spain is a lovely country. Full of wonders and breathtaking views. That was my favorite European country. I used to think I was Spanish in my previous life. I would be one of those Spanish men who would standardize the chivalrous lives of medieval Christian knights. I would be riding horses, and shooting long guns and crossbows.
When I approached the counter, I found out that the staff had served the wrong order, so I had to wait for the right one nearby.
"JANE AUSTEN"
"JANE AUSTEN" the staff called a name.
I couldn't help but scoff because of the name. The customer must be a book geek. Strange. Many people would pick celebrities. I recall being bullied in high school because I liked Al Pacino. Dude, bullying a youngster with impeccable taste? Those bullies back then had no taste. I'm sure they appreciate the classics more today.
A lady then stood up.
I was mesmerized by the way she moved; how her hair matched the tempo of her walk; her eyes behind those glasses; and her physique, despite the fact that she was dressed plainly.
I could sense her entire presence.
She approached the counter and took her order. So, she is Jane Austen. She then returned to her seat, which was not far from mine. It was only a seat away.
"Mr. Superman," the staff called out, startling me and bringing me back to reality. I quickly got my cup of coffee and moved over to the seat across from her. I was annoyed because someone was seated at the table in between us. I couldn't get a good look at her. What's more, the man was constantly moving as if he had a pet worm inside his stomach.
After several moments of glancing at her from afar, I came to the realization that what I'm doing now is not what Luke Anderson is. He should be a real man standing up and approaching that woman. I rose and put my camera in my bag before approaching her. She grabbed her belongings to get ready to leave at the same moment.
"Hello, good day," I said, causing her to pause and turn to face me. I was able to get closer to her and I could say she was beautiful. She blinked carefully, taken aback by my abrupt appearance.
She produced a slight smile, which means she didn't entirely acknowledge my greeting. Her mouth was slightly open at first, then closed, and then "Good day, how can I help you?" Her voice was calm and relaxing. Do all women in this country have a soothing voice? I bet my mom wasn't raised here.
"I..." I gestured to the counter and tried explaining what happened earlier. "saw ... you" Unfortunately, neither my mouth nor my mind cooperated. Of course, in the early morning, not all of my senses work. I looked at her, and our gazes locked. She wasn't saying anything, but I could tell by the look on her face that she was waiting for me to say something.
"I was saying... You have an interesting book" That was all I could say. What do you expect a guy would say: you have nice eyes, you have nice lips, body? Women always assume that when a guy compliments them physically, it means that we simply admire them for their beauty. I mean, appearance always comes first, right? The rest follows. Also, why can't any man admire every fine God-given being a woman possesses?
She checked the cover of the book. Yes, milady the cover was pretty obvious and I am using that to just talk to you. "Are you a fan of Jane Austen??"
I nodded repeatedly. I hardly know Jane Austen but I would just keep the boat still not for it to row away. "Well... she wrote that book ... then Wuthering Heights... there are a lot of versions or even movies about the plot of the book. But nothing beats the classic right?"
"I believe Emily Bronte wrote Wuthering Heights" she calmly said. Is it Emily? Emily, are you the one who wrote that story? I gave off an embarrassing laugh. That was a bummer. To be really honest, only a few of the male population would read books. They would, but not classics. Not the romantic classics. Most of them like action books with exciting plots and characters with extreme abilities. They are not into....
"My affections and wishes are unchanged, but one word from you will silence me on this subject forever," I mumbled quite loudly for her to hear. I checked her reaction and her eyes froze. Was it by Jane Austen? I just heard it from a movie before the one my mother used to watch.
She suddenly smiled and put her book in her bag. I was surprised that she was not saying anything and was preparing herself to leave. "Did I say something wrong? If so, I'm sorry,"
"As much as I want to chitchat with you. I still have a class and I'm late. Have a nice day...... sir?" she hurriedly went outside the coffee shop, leaving me there stunned. A few people near the table were looking at me. I wish the ground would swallow me any time now.
I took a quick glance at a piece of tissue on the table with scribbles. I picked it up and there was something written.
'To sit in the shade on a fine day and look upon verdure is the most perfect refreshment.'
