It’s Quiet Uptown
I’ve been on a musicals kick, likely due to Glee being my background show of choice for the past week or so. And after my test, I’m going to go see all of them. This is a sad goddamn song. But this is not a sad post. This is a post about things coming together. About appreciating these few days where somehow everything is working out. Because I know that at some point something will unravel, but I also know that when it happens, it won’t break me. It’s about raising a glass to the person that I am now. Because I wake up early and look in the mirror and like what I see. I love that I’m killing it at work. I love that I’m not procrastinating (as much). I love that sometimes I can manage to run two miles without stopping. Love those qualifiers there. I love that I seem to have found myself and some kind of balance in life. And I love that at around 11:30pm on a Wednesday night, the part of the upper west side that cradles the edge of central park is empty and quiet. It’s so quiet I can hear him whispering things to make me laugh. I hear the rhythm in the clack of the boots I debated for half an hour whether or not to wear. I hear the buzz of every streetlight we pass. And when he puts my arm around me the city is not a city. I drink in the quiet and forget everything else.
So this is what dating is supposed to be like. Actual, proper dating. None of the pushy hook up type bullshit, but just wittiness and inside jokes and romance. I feel spoiled for a moment and then I remember that I can’t contribute to lowering the collective standard. My infatuation from a few days ago has done come and gone. But I just really like talking to him, being around him. And oddly, I like the person I am when I’m with him. That’s narcissistic as fuck. More so that I’m not thinking about who I should be the way I used to on dates, even if I didn’t like them. I didn’t like the person I was when I was with Randall Boggs. She was meek and a little pathetic though at times fun to play simply because she was so easily pleased and rarely ever let herself feel the disappointment. And I don’t think this is a boy thing, more of a me thing. And I’m not sure when it happened but somehow I’ve grown. And I’m kind of proud. Because at no point last night did I feel awkward, even when I probably was. I felt like I was shining. I still am.
Alright so I’ve been procrastinating recounting the date details because I know my memory and language will not do it justice. And the poetry that came into my mind last night has faded away because now my mind is busy also doing work. We met at 79th and Broadway and walked over to a little French place, the name of which I can neither remember nor pronounce. He wore a scarf and smelled nice. And as we walked, we talked about the soccer game that we were going to go to, if only his friend had sent him the tickets. He said that his friend’s wife is an immigration lawyer that he teaches piano to, which was great because he was having issues because he wants to get a green card. And without filter under my breath I said oh so that’s why you’re on Hinge. I don’t think he heard me because he kept talking, and I wasn’t going to say it again but I was laughing internally for maybe the rest of the walk. And then we talked about baseball instead and at the corner of one of the intersections, he stopped to turn to me and tell me that I looked really nice. We talked so easily about so many things but he also went to the bathroom three times which I found rather odd.
As we walked around after drinks, we passed by an empty street in front of a park and he asked to dance. He played music on his phone and tucked into his jacket pocket and I don’t think I’ve ever done anything so romantic in my life before. And yes he can actually really dance. We walked to my subway and kissed. And he told me that he really liked me. I think I like him too.