On the eve of what was to be our date, this guy I was supposed to go out with called to ask where I wanted to go, what I wanted to do. He said that he had been thinking of creative ways that would make me happy and maybe he wasn't as creative as he thought he was because, as a last resort, he decided to ask me. Before I even answered, he justified his question by telling me that I read far too many books such that anything he came up with, I had already read about. He said that I am a difficult person to date, that I am a difficult person to love.
Spoiler alert: I didn't go out with him. And I stopped dating his kind.
I don't know why I remembered that incident. But I was readying myself for the day this morning when, for one fleeting second, I felt as if I couldn't recognise the person looking back at me on the mirror. This feeling passed as quickly as it came but it left a strange aftertaste in form of unanswered questions; like how does it feel to meet me? How does it feel to sit opposite me in a coffee shop and wait for my input in a conversation? Most importantly, how does it feel to be loved by me?
The title of this post is from the song Closer to Fine by Indigo Girls.
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