I am still a bit insecure about a new boy that I will be meeting.
Trying to find my stability on what we should be doing.
A kiss, dinner or just a look that will make it all happen.
However, my thoughts that are going back in time.
It has been a while since I have heard from a guy I was once seeing.
However, it is different than what you are thinking.
A regret I am feeling or that I am missing him.
I enjoyed the time I was with him and there is nothing really for me to be reminiscing.
It is the first time I have experienced something like this.
Not a heartbreak to solve or some memories that keeps repeating in my dreams.
I was present at that moment, when whatever it was, happened.
A lesson learned, time can be saved.
Although we don’t meet anymore, I still have thoughts about him.
A sign there is something unresolved.
A lesson to be learned or a story to be told.
For me to explore what this missing piece is.
My mind is showing me the last time I saw him.
For dinner, he invited me.
As polite as he insisted on paying, it was something else that was missing for me.
A form of manner that didn’t make sense.
I remember sitting at that table with him, looking at how he handled his cutlery.
This wasn’t the first time I had seen and experienced it.
There was once a guy that also invited me to dinner.
We met at work by coincidence smoking a cigarette outside.
This happened a few time for some weeks.
This was before I quit that job.
We crossed paths after smoking at the same time for many times in the building.
Until I was comfortable enough to give him my phone number.
It didn’t take long before he asked me to enjoy some food.
I told him I knew a nice restaurant.
It was at that time, my favorite.
A homelocated restaurant in a hidden alley, close to the center.
When we were there, the waitress lit the candles and we could choose from the daily wine special.
To start with, not as a starter.
Although it could have been.
The guy I was with was French.
It was this same thing I saw with how he was using his fork and knife.
It had nothing to do, with him being French.
It was the manner of how he was eating that made me decide to stop meeting.
Perhaps I saw him one or two more times after this in the building, only because that was the place we were both working.
It was a recurrence with this guy I was once with and my thougths were showing me.
A turn off, with eating properly at dinner.
Although I have to admit, I am also not so good at it.
At least I am trying.
A sign I show some respect.
Not just for myself or the other person at the table, but also for the food I am eating.
Because the only thing I thought, when sitting across from both of them was, ‘What are you doing?!’
Perhaps it was the repetition of this dinner at the table.
A message that unruffled with this sequence.
Telling me I am better off with someone that knows how to eat.
Because honestly, it was disgusting to me, to see how they were eating.
It has become a standard that night I both saw them for the last time, but I was too shy to express.
However, having standards, there is nothing wrong with that.