Enter you, razersharp

I never thought I would meet someone like you. When I was looking for a quick fix, you jolted me from my not-so sober state. Our exchanges that night, that first night, pulled me out of my drunken stupor. Though I know that you were feigning interest, I appreciated the effort. I was relentless in engaging you in verbal combat. You did not yield. Instead, you met my challenge head on. You may not know it but I drove home lucid and sober.

Grounded and levelheaded, that’s who you are. As I soar and playfully outline the drama of my life, you anchored me with your sane remarks. You were constantly laughing at my antics. It was the performance of my life. But it felt natural. I was talking to a real person.

But, how real are you? You changed your story. I was alarmed. It was like peeling an onion. You have so many layers. You are very guarded, cautious with your words. The richness of your past does not only intimate sophistication and maturity but it also hints of a baggage that you carry. I sense your honesty. I am not easily frightened. I told you that you deserve an award for your achievement. You laughed and modestly declined.

I asked, “How do you know if you’re already in love?” and you replied with, “When you constantly think about him. When you crave to be with him. That’s when you know that you’re already in love.” But then I argued, “I think about you a lot. I think about our witty exchanges. I’ve been unyielding in my effort to invite you to have coffee with me. Does that mean I’m in love with you?” and you said, “You’re crazy!” And yet, I always have to ask, “How much time do we have?” because you are always busy. Je ne sais pas, mon ami. Je ne sais pas. C’est tout nouveau.

We have yet to see each other.

Though we know the intimate secrets of each other’s lives, we have yet to see each other’s face. Though, in our brief discussions, we’ve come to know each other’s struggles, we have yet to feel each other’s presence. We have so many things to explore about each other. But the stars and Fate seem to have other plans for us. Offline messages were sent. Offline messages remained unanswered.

Bottomline, we clicked.

I will not put color in our exchanges. That would be too presumptuous of me. I will not ask the universe if you are the one. That would be too hopeful.

I will simply whisper my heart’s desire:

Would you have coffee with me?