Same Time Tomorrow?

Same Time Tomorrow? Chapter Three

Chapter Three

You know that feeling you get before a first date when you know he’s really special? How you can’t wait for him to arrive? How you show up way too early? How you pay attention to every little detail, and nothing seems right? I love that, all of it, only because it’s surrounded by this warm cozy era of anticipation.

 I fiddled with the hem of my dress, wondering if it was too much. It was pretty casual, white on the top, red on the bottom with a fake black belt to separate the two. I was sitting in the same table I was sitting yesterday at the same time. Every so often I would look up at the wall clock above the counter and then take another sip of my Latte.

It was 1:20 P.M, yesterday he had walked in at 1:11. Maybe he thought by same time I met as the time I had given him the message, which was around 1:45. I tried to calm myself by taking yet another sip of Latte, which in retrospect was probably the worst thing I could do.

“Waitin’ for someone?” Maggie asked.

“No,” I replied, not wanting to talk to her.

“Then why are you so antsy?” she inquired.

“Is it really any of your business?” I scowled at her.

“There’s no need to get snippy about it,” she huffed, and walked away. I should have felt bad, I should have felt anything really, but I didn’t. There were already too many feelings running around in my head.

I lay across the two chairs at my table, just watching the door, willing the blonde man to walk through it. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe he wouldn’t come. I tried to exclude the thought from my head. He would come, I knew he would.

He would walk through that door any minute now and he would gather me up in a hug, apologize to me and tell me he loved me, and we’d all live happily ever after. We’d get married and have kids then they would get married and have kid and so on and so on. It would all perfect.

  I glanced up at the clock once more 1:45. I’ve been here before, I think. I’ve been in this same seat, at the same place, at the same time, yesterday. I was thinking about the same person, I smelled the same scent, and felt the same warm I-just-drank-coffee feeling. But today it was different.

I was alone.

 As the clock hands silently laughed in my face and the sun sunk deeper in the sky, I sighed.

He hadn’t shown and I knew he wouldn’t.

I felt this weird pain in my chest and wanted to cry. I wanted to be mad at him, I wanted to be able to go and cry to my mom about this silly guy who broke my heart. But I’m not mad with him, how can I be? I don’t even know his name.

I shouldn’t even be disappointed.

I guess I was just taking a chance, and when you take chances you have to expect to fail sometimes.

But I gave it a try and I’m glad I did. If I hadn’t come today, who knows? Maybe he would have gotten here; same time today. He would be looking for me, and I wouldn’t be there. He would think I didn’t care or cared about something else more, and I’d have to live with that feeling.

And now, at least I had peace of mind.

So do I believe in love at first sight? No.  

But taking chances? Putting yourself out there, not knowing if you’re going to fail or not? Yeah, I believe in that.