He sat across from me.
His stare was still and it felt a bit intense.
I didn’t say anything, because I didn’t know what this moment was holding.
Perhaps it was part of the deal, the way it was supposed to be.
We had never met, although we were sitting there.
Opposite from each other, some candlelight marking the distance.
The first date it was.
Actually, blind date to better explain.
I believe that falls in a different category, if you think about it.
His voice was loud, though not too much.
I could hear him clearly.
We shook hands and he told me his name, before sitting down.
That was all the effort he made to make himself known.
I guess, he was sure enough about himself where his words didn’t have to speak for him.
Something interesting to me.
A word he also used to describe what I do, interesting.
I can’t tell if it was the nerves, preventing us from relaxing, or just the situation of what a blind date can do.
When it comes to that, there are no rules.
‘Blind date’.
He didn’t ask me directly, I also can’t really recollect the words he said.
It came down to if I was going to write about him.
I guess meeting someone out of nowhere can be a bit nerve wrecking and so I told him, the word that sticks to me about this evening is blind date.
Letting him wrap his head around what is actually happening.
Even if that is still a mystery.
Where I started speaking about this phenomenon where we both were taking part in.
A glass of white wine on the table and some beers he was drinking. Making it look easy what we were doing, although I don’t think we both had a clue.
I said, “It is interesting to me”.
“I believe a blind date is about a certain expectation”.
“Perhaps even a state we go to in our mind or just imagination”.
I have to say, I didn’t say it in this exact way. I was speaking Dutch to him.
I told him about a little story I wrote a few days before, where I explained about writing a love letter.
Where we are having a hope, perhaps better call it an expectation for something in return.
What that is, I can’t say.
Something certain is, there is something about it.
Meeting a stranger in the dark, where it holds some candle light.
A glass of wine, some beer on the table and a room filled with what we like to happen.
There is much to say or not at all.
There is no inbetween or anything else.
What sums up exactly what happens during a blind date.
I believe everyone makes a promise to themselves.
To enjoy the night and see what it brings.
It captures the hope of sentimental romantics and benefits those who understand.
Protecting our heart, preventing us from harm and take away the night.
Where the question remains for me.
Can we call it love?