First Date

Oh God. Oh no.

I don’t even know what to say. There is no way to explain this. If I could, I would blame that guy over there—the one with the shifty eyes— the unkempt hair— and the demeanor of manual labor— the hired help. He looks the type. Right? The sort of man capable of something like this. But no. This one’s all me. I did this. Maybe I get points for honesty? No?

But Please. Just… don’t leave yet. Let me explain.

You see, it took me months to ask you out. Months. Really.

Every time I so much as thought about it, my palms got sweaty, my throat closed up, and I lost the ability to form coherent sentences. I ran through a thousand different scenarios in my head—rejections, stammers, even you laughing in my face. But this? This didn’t make the list.