she does not know it yet
she does not know it yet.
we both liked asian. we were to meet at foo. place was locked in, time was too.
she had taken surfing classes a few days before and was staying with her friends. i reached there 30 minutes early and sat at the restaurant, alternating between twitter and the food menu for no real reason.
twitter. then the food menu. then twitter again.
she reached. i was on the first floor. i offered to come pick her up. she denied.
fair enough. a man must earn his entry into a lobby.
so i went back to my phone. and then, just as i was mid-scroll, i heard it. a small voice. tiny. almost mumbling my name, as if it had not yet fully decided to enter the room.
i turned.
there she was. small frame. cute face. a giant jacket almost swallowing her whole. and that was it. that was the moment. very inconveniently, very quietly, i had already decided i wanted to meet her again.
she had not even said a full sentence yet.
she does not know it yet.
she thinks i only talk to her because we have similar iqs. she thinks i am here because the conversation is good, and nothing more.
dinner happened. words were said. food was eaten. at the end of it, i dropped her to her cab.
two days later, i offered to drop her to the airport. i wanted to meet her again.
it could not happen that day.
but the point is, the wish to meet her again did not begin two days later. it had already begun that night at foo. before the wit. before the conversation. before any of it made sense.
i wanted to meet her again before the first proper conversation had even begun.
not because she was smart. though she is. not because the conversation was good. though it was.
it was simpler than that.
i saw her. i heard her say my name. and something in me had already moved.
and maybe the funniest part is that she still thinks this is just an iq thing.
she does not know it yet.