On Sunday afternoon, I got out of the house late. I fasted on Saturday. It wasn't hard—the time passed quickly as I knitted most the day and did a little reading. You are not supposed to knit on Yom Kippur or the Sabbath, and it was both, but oh well. I am constantly doing things I'm not supposed to be doing (eating pork, wearing trousers, kissing boys, etc.), so the fact that I was doing one thing (fasting) I was supposed to be doing will have to count for something.
Last week, I ran into an old friend late on Saturday afternoon at my favorite coffee shop. I usually don't go to coffee shops in the afternoon because I don't drink caffeinated beverages after noon. I was there to buy coffee beans and my friend, Ish, was sitting outside. I stopped to talk to him. Since he's from England, I asked him some questions about where he thought was worth going within striking distance of London. I enjoyed talking to him and I wondered why we fell out of touch. I don't have a good answer for that, though I think it had something to do with his interest in me being a little more than "just" friendly. I didn't completely reciprocate. When I left he said, "You can always find me here on the weekends.…"
On Sunday, I went to find him. As I was biking to the coffee shop I wondered what I was about. Did I really want to see him? Was I ready to reciprocate? Did my past objections matter anymore? When I got there, he was outside with some friends—two younger guys (younger than him, that is; Ish is a dozen or more years older than I am). I walked past and they didn't see me. I thought, I will be bold and take my (decaf) coffee out there and sit with them. Not the easiest thing in the world for me, but I was there for a reason, right? I came out there specifically to see him, and I was, what, going to sit inside drinking coffee I didn't really want? No.
As soon as I walked back outside, Ish saw me, and his friends offered me a seat. "How did you get by us?" I said, "You were all staring at the computer." We all got to chatting…and then Ish mentioned that, Ed (one of the guys), was going to Paris. The rest of the time was spent talking to Ed about Paris. Ah, Ed. He turns out to be perfect for me and the irony of his imminent departure is…PERFECT. He is going there for a year on a fellowship, a post doc thingy in Literature. I am loving and hating the humor in this. Before I went to Paris, I thought for sure I'd meet someone and fall deep "in like," making my departure extra bittersweet. That didn't happen, and I'm actually grateful it didn't. But…could this be happening instead? No, probably not, because, I just met this guy and there is no saying what would've happened under other circumstances or what will happen under these. (Why do I even think anything is "there"? Well, he made a LOT of eye contact with me and when I made a joke about something happening when I was a "jeune fille" he said, "You're still a 'jeune fille.'") I will say this, I have no objection to letting whatever happens happen. I can live with making HIS departure a tad bittersweet.
Oh, and lying in bed around 11pm Sunday night, wide awake, it occurred to me: the coffee wasn't actually decaffeinated. Sigh.
Grateful for: less anxiety about "boys" than ever.