The First Date

I walked her back through the park after dinner. We stood outside the gate that granted access to the antiquated mansion that she called home, doing that dance you do after a first date. Dancing, trying to divine each others desires and limits for what would or would not happen next now that a seemingly successful date was nearing completion.

She asked me to come up for an after-drink. I hesitated and I saw a momentary expression of disappointment on her face, then it was gone. I refused her offer because I knew where these things can lead and I had recently vowed myself into celibacy. If that is true, you say, why are you dating at all? Well, it was only a temporary state of denial, a test of sorts, and I couldn’t stop all social activity for a test, could I? I said no, claiming fatigue and she gave me a peck on the cheek, promising vaguely that we should see each other again, and went in. I waited outside for a bit wondering what I had just done, turning down such a lovely request for connection. It wasn’t like I had so many friends that I did not need another and she was magnetic for sure. I watch upstairs as the light came on in the window and recognized her form appearing briefly there, looking down. I thought it might be one last request before she gave up on me for good tonight. When she turned away, I walked slowly toward my own little apartment. I never saw her again after that night. Fuck celibacy…