You'll never guess what I did!
Go on. I dare you, Diary. I'll give you three tries. I'm making it so easy for you. Oh alright, fine! If you're going to be stubborn, I'll just go ahead and tell you...
I had my first date with Train Boy!
I think the first thing that I should clear up is that his name isn't Train Boy. As much as I would like to think that it is something like that, it isn't. But he has got a pretty nice name. One that suits his face. And his smile. And his eyes...
Sorry. Got a little carried away there. But you're used to that, aren't you? I'm quite the waffler. So I'll stop and get to the point. Gah! Sorry! Off I go again! What am I like?
His name's Danny. Yeah. Danny. Short for Daniel. But he doesn't look like a Daniel. He looks like a Danny. Or a Dan. Hmm, I really like his name. And when he says it with that accent of his...
Don't worry! I'm not going to go any further into that! I know you're an innocent little book. Your pages don't hold such crude ideas that you must seem is going around in my head. But you know me, Diary. I'm not that kind of girl. So your pages are safe. Only nice words will be written.
But he is stunning. Out of his work clothes and in his normal, casual clothes, he's just stunning. He's skinny, but the shirt he chose complimented him completely. It was black and white striped, long sleeved and very skin tight. God, nothing was left to the imagination. And then those skinny jeans...dear God, don't get me started on those.
When I looked at him at first glance, it didn't look like he'd made too much of an effort. He just seemed so effortless in his flawlessness. But as I got closer, I saw that he'd shaved since I saw him the evening before on the train home. His hair was gelled in a different way to normal. And I caught the delicious scent of his aftershave. Hugo Boss. My new favourite.
He didn't see me at first. That was fine. I needed time to compose myself. Fluff my hair up a little more, check the chapstick I put on my lips, make sure the perfume hadn't been overridden by the kebab the drunk on the train was eating. All seemed fine. Pulled my beanie down over my hair and strode over there. Smiling confidently like I always do.
He was smoking. I didn't expect that. Not that I really mind. I grew up in a house full of smokers, after all. Mum, Dad, Callum. All smokers. Only me that didn't. I don't see the point of it. But I don't persecute those that do. That would mean I would judge my family. And they're the kindest of people who just happen to smoke. Not right.
I think he was ashamed of it though. The second he saw me, he flicked it away and acted like nothing had happened. I humoured him, letting him carry on. Because it really didn't bother me. But I suppose on a first date, you don't want people to see your bad habits.
I was late. He didn't tell me as much. In fact, he told me I was early. But I knew I was late. My compulsion to be twenty minutes early getting the better of me, only to be thwarted by a delay on the lines. My palms practically itched as I forced my way up through the crowd. And I was ten minutes early. But to me, that's late. Call me mental, but that's just the way I am...
He's taller than I imagined too. I mean, I knew he was tall. Walking behind him every day for the last few months, you can kind of tell the basic gist of someone's height. But once I actually got up close to him, I realised just how much he towers over me. I'm such a short-ass, it's unreal.
I'm not used to dates. Not that this was a date. I know I've called it a date a lot, but it really wasn't. It was just...Gah, it wasn't a date. That's all I know. As much as I wanted to call it a date, I can't. Because that's just assuming. And I'm not an assumer, am I?
He took me to a coffee shop. Nothing to swish. Just an adorable little cubby hole looking building down one of the backalleys that I'm surprised ever existed. How on earth would you even think to find this place if you had no idea where you were going? And when I walked in, the smell of coffee was just incredible. It filled up the whole room, soothing me into it's homely presence.
I must have lost track of life a little, because he had to rest his hand on my arm. Looking at me with a twinkle in those dark eyes of his, a cheeky grin on his face. Embarrassing much? Off in the world that I so often fall into only to be dragged out by the guy that brought me here in the first place. The one I was out to impress. Not a good start, is it?
But he didn't seem too offended. In fact, it struck up a conversation between us. He said he used to notice my glazed eyes on the train and wonder where I would go to. What it was that interested me so much. And asked me if I would be willing to indulge on anything I daydreamed about.
I must admit, Diary, it's not exactly the conversation I thought we would have. But he says he's a musician and that he likes finding muses in the most bizarre places. And I went on to talk about the angels. Conveniently skipping the section that featured him, of course. Focusing more on the idea of heaven, and what it takes to be accepted into the waiting arms behind the golden gates.
I have to say it took a bit of a turn at one point. He mentioned that he wouldn't be likely to head to heaven because of the amount of sins he'd committed in his lifetime. I found that very hard to believe. I don't believe entirely in the words of the Bible. I believe that heaven is somewhere that good people go. Those with hearts of gold and the best intentions. Only people like murderers and rapists get sent head first to hell. Those that made a choice that resulted in inflicted pain that was irreversible. You can forgive something superficial being stolen. You can't forgive a life being stolen. You can't forgive innocence being stolen.
He laughed eventually, saying that he wished everyone in the world thought my way. That it was refreshing to have someone with so much optimism in the world rather than the dreary people he currently surrounded himself with. My answer to him was this:
“If this is the face of a sinner and heaven's only for winners, then I don't care. Because heaven is clearly not worthy of having me there. I've lived my life trying to be the best version of a human being. And if I've been judged on the life I've been living, then I should be accepted. But if heaven is not so forgiving, then there's no point. And I'll be happy to go wherever I'm sent.”
His eyes twinkled again. I could see his mind whirring as his smile softened. And he told me I was something special. The adrenaline stopped flowing at that point as I took in the words. I felt my cheeks flush too. My typical response to something so kind being said to me.
He's really a sweet guy, Diary. I could talk about him for hours. In fact, Leanne got an earful when I got home. Demanded each detail, questioned his intentions with her best friend. And for the first time, I could actually tell her that this was a good one. He didn't demand a kiss as we parted. He didn't demand that we see each other again. He simply asked with a hopeful look in his eye. I tried to play it cool. I really did. But the word came out of me like a bullet.
Yes.
So it looks like I'll be seeing him again soon. Friday night, in fact. We're going to watch a film. Which one, I don't know. I've never been a big film goer. But he is. And any excuse to be around him again...
Anyway. I promised Nat that I'd call her as well. Just got a text off her to let me know that she is readily available for all the latest gossip concerning Train Boy. Yeah. That's pretty much stuck now. I can see that he will never be Danny to her. She'll embarrass me for sure...
Anyway. I'm going. I'll be sure to keep you updated. I always do, don't I? Love you loads.
Clara x
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A/N - Hey guys. So this is the second diary entry. Hopefully it was interesting. Let me know what you think of it! Always helps with the writing process. Vote, comment, do your thing. Much love x
