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A JOURNAL
About Rose:
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19 December 2022
Monday, 10.55pm If you asked me only a week or so ago, I would have told you how a date with J.C. left me feeling crushed and the worst parts of myself - too straight laced, never cool enough, unattractive and uninterestingly too corporate. He was after all a musician and spent the summer playing at Wembley. And me? What did I have to offer? I felt rejected and wholly insecure about myself even if we had only been on one date. Because you see in the weeks preceding it, I thought we had built a sufficient connection through the exchange of texts and voice notes talking about books, poetry, my fondness for riverside walks and his love for Ella Fitzgerald, which I shared. But all that, didn't seem to matter because there wasn't that ever elusive romantic connection when we met in person. What was it about me, I wondered, that never seemed to be enough? Then this past weekend, there was an impromptu date with J.B. on a very frosty Saturday evening. It was a nondescript pub in Shepherd's Bush filled with goth concert goers (!). The evening unfolded with thoughtful and easy conversation punctuated by laughs. There was a strange sense of being at ease and most of all I was just present in the moment and myself, something I have always struggled with. We talked, and talked.. and found ourselves the only table left in an area which had otherwise been cleared away for the dance floor. So we moved and perched ourselves at another table and as the night wore on, we made our way to a couch still talking but edging closer to each other. Then he leaned in and kissed me.. Some time after midnight, we left the pub and made our way to The Hoxton for a nightcap but it had disappointingly closed. It seemed he didn't want our conversation to end and neither did I. I was pensive but was persuaded so we trudged through the cold winter's night where he held my hand to keep it warm and tucked it in his pocket, and made our way to Hammersmith. We found ourselves with a cup of tea in our hands curled on opposite ends of my couch listening to Fleetwood Mac, Harry Nilsson and Don McLean. We stayed up talking until about 5am and when we eventually fell asleep I remember seeing the first light of day peeking through my window. And as all Sunday mornings are meant to be, we had a lie-in, spoke about our families, our different views and laughed. When we eventually got on with our day, I decided to make some shakshuka and he suggested we watch the World Cup final where France faced Argentina. What I remember most about that match however was being warmly ensconced on the couch with him and squeezing his hand nervously at every heart clenching goal scored and when the game came down to penalty kicks. Some 24 hours into our first date, I walked him out as he made his way home. I'm not sure how things will go but I know shouldn't chase things that aren't for me. I did however have one of those unique moments in life where you connect easily with another human being and shared something mutually special and perhaps even magical. I was exactly myself and felt reassured that it would be enough. And that does not come easily for me. So I will hang on to that little magic that enters our lives now and choose to believe that I am special because it appears someone saw that in me.
rose | 23:48
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