i hadn't been on a date, a real date, in too long to remember. years, maybe? and when i say date, i mean the hey-i'll-pick-you-up-at-this-time-and-take-you-somewhere-beautiful-and-then-drop-you-off-at-home-because-i-like-you kind of date. maybe because i was in a long, too-comfortable relationship all throughout college. and then i moved to st thomas... and that sort of chivalry just doesn't happen on that tiny island. everyone already knows each other, and it's just... not that sort of place.
so this was a long time coming. and i appreciated it so much -- more than i think he knows.
he picked me up at "my place", and when i went downstairs to the entrance, all 6 and 1/2 feet of him was leaning against his parked bicycle in a collared shirt, looking so suave. he diligently translated dutch poetry scribbled on the sidewalk, just cause i was curious. something about trains and bridges and opening opportunities. i was too enamored in the romance of the moment to remember. i hung on his every word in a way that meant i forgot the ones before it. i hopped on the back of his bike and clung to the buttons on his chest. cobblestone blurred below my dangling feet as we gained speed. he drove us past a neighborhood of nautical murals on purpose, because he knows how much i miss the sea. we caught a ferry past a sunken submarine at sunset. we had drinks while sitting in old pieces of boat, overlooking the rippling water and the quickly igniting city lights. we talked about everything you'd ever want to talk about with someone you're just getting to know. there were blankets and a bon fire and a bright round moon. and there was respect and honesty and chivalry. and a restored sense of hope--hope because, although the night was fleeting, it was perfect. and that exists. and that's enough, for now.