She loved to talk but was afraid. She loved to meet people but was anxious. She had trouble seeing from her right eye. She wasn't blind, but often saw red― a combination of pediatric cataracts and a popped blood vessel that never went back to normal. Because of this, she felt like a 21st-century freak show star. When she was a kid and into her teen years, she became accustomed to the staring, or wincing, or comments from her peers. Of course, she had friends, but she always felt like an outsider, which was especially hard because she had the personality of a social butterfly. Because she grew up feeling so out of the ordinary, she could never look people in the eye. High school sweetheart? Didn't have one. College love? That neither. Now an adult, she had grown out of feeling freakish but had lost the hope of finding love. Her lack of skill in making eye contact did not help her case at all. She had been fine throughout college and professionally; her larger-than-life personality made up for her lack of eye contact, and she had garnered a job right out of college.
Now at age 26, she worried about her chance at finding true love. As childish as it might be, she had always believed that when she found her soulmate, it would be love at first sight. She believed that she would hold the longest eye contact with the other pair of eyes when she finally encountered them. Sure, she had had people come and go throughout her life, but it had never been the person. High school boyfriends were few but educational. In college, she just did not reciprocate feelings; he was someone to have fun with, not someone to fall in love with. From age 24-25 she dated an amazing guy, but she could not hold eye contact, so she broke up with him. Lately, she had been questioning if that had been the right decision. Was it stupid and childish of her to break up with him because she could not comfortably look him in the eye? Was she overthinking it?
As she sat in a coffee shop on this cool, damp October morning grading papers, she realized that she'd forgotten to add almond milk to her warm cup of coffee. Walking to the creamers, she sees a man looking for his favorite flavor. The problem was not that the coffee shop was out of almond milk; it was that she couldn't look away.
" Is there something on my face?" he laughs, bringing her back from reality. He ran his free hand through his short, dirty blonde hair. She took a moment to analyze him. His dark green and navy flannel comfortably rested on his toned body. He paired that warm flannel with tan khakis, a casual, yet comfortable, style for the brisk day. He was tall and fit, but nothing crazy. His outfit comforted her, as if he was welcoming a hug. Ironically, her navy sweater perfectly matched his flannel, but she felt completely underdressed in leggings, with her hair thrown up in a messy ponytail.
"No," she smiles, "it's just no one has ever looked at me like I was normal before."
"I don't see anything wrong with you―nice smile, beautiful face, pretty eyes― you look
pretty good to me."
She stands in disbelief, their hands still entangled with the empty creamer bottle. He said
she had pretty eyes. And it wasn't a joke! She blushed at the tall, sandy blond man standing before her. He was still tan from the summer, with freckles covering his nose. He had the prettiest eyes she had ever seen― blue, like the ocean. His eyes were framed perfectly with thick, long eyelashes that highlighted the sparkle of blue.
"I have never seen you here before; where are you from?" she asked, trying to make conversation.
"Oh, I'm not new to town," he smiled. "I usually make my own coffee at home while I work, but my coffee maker broke this morning, so here I am."
"Where do you work? I mean, what do you do?" she bit her lip, embarrassed at her informality.
"I'm actually a high school English teacher. You'd think that I would frequent a coffee shop more often, huh?"
"No way! I am a U.S. history teacher over at Franklin!"
"I guess we're rivals then because I am at Avon." He playfully stepped back.
"What school did you go to? Did you grow up around here?"
"I'm not from here; I grew up in a suburb of Chicago but moved here for school. I went
to Syracuse University and moved to Boston right after I graduated. But right now I am in graduate school at Northeastern, what about you?" He smiled, happy she had asked about his story.
"That's crazy, my best friend went to Syracuse, and my cousin is at Northeastern now! I
went to the University of Iowa and grew up out there, but I have family in Boston, so here I am. I guess we both needed a break from the Midwest, huh?" She was stunned that they had such similar backgrounds.
"My little brother is at Iowa right now! Small world, isn't it. If you are from Iowa who do
you root for, Cubs or Cardinals?" he asked, quite seriously, showing that he was also a baseball fan.
"Oh my gosh, is that even a question? Two Cubs games a year for my entire life! My
uncle has season tickets, so I try to get to a few games when I can. This is crazy how we have never met before." She smiled with a glimmer of hope in her eyes.
"Yeah, it's pretty remarkable."
He had the same glimmer in his eyes. It was obvious to her. They continued to flirt for hours, both getting no work done. When the coffee shop closed at 4:30 that Sunday, they were the last ones to leave.
"I think we should do this again sometime." He smiled at her as they walked out.
"I would love to. Here, let me get your number!"
The two exchanged numbers and started to separate from the coffee shop. Before they left, they decided to go on a date that next Friday night. He knew that he was going to marry that girl, but she would think he was crazy if he told her such a thing. She knew she had found her soulmate, but he would think she was insane if she said so.
As she walked into her apartment, she screamed in joy. She had met her soulmate and had not been able to stop staring at him. Today she felt normal. Today she felt beautiful. All because of him. Her childish belief had prevailed.
Picture Credit: postmycontacts.com
