Old Soul Syndrome |ONC 2020|

February 7, 2020

He wasn't what I was expecting. I don't think the best things ever are.

I'm probably honestly about to sound like a teenage girl, but I kept my promise not to write anything until something interesting or exciting happened. Both happened. And I didn't realize how much I'd actually miss this little tic of mine.

Both happened, and they happened in the form of Daniel. He usually likes to go by Dan, but there's just something about his full name that I like. I like how it sounds when I say it, and he seemed to feel the same way.

We stayed at the restaurant for nearly two hours, just talking. Mostly about nothing, but it didn't feel like nothing. He's smart and funny, and he made me feel the same way. I've rarely ever had someone who just sat there and really looked like he wanted to listen to me. Like he wanted to find out where I'd been and what I'd done in my life.

Which, compared to him, honestly wasn't much. By the end of the evening, I'd really regretted not going to Costa Rica in college. I regretted not being able to go on the D.C. field trip during my senior year. I regretted that I'd only ever moved one state away from home.

He's been to so many places. Israel. Egypt. The UK. France. Italy. He lived in Boston for a while. He's traveled from Texas to Montana, Kansas to California, just going up and down and across the country. I also assume he's been to someplace like Iraq or Afghanistan. He mentioned that he'd served, but didn't seem to want to talk about it, which I understand. 

I mean, we've only just met, no matter how much it feels like I already know him.

After dinner, we'd just walked around downtown. I hadn't even minded the cold. The snow shimmered in the streetlights, packed down and slippery underfoot in most places. Both of us had ambled along, laughing every time either of us slid on the icy patches. 

The closer we'd got to the parking lot, the slower we walked until we couldn't delay any longer.

Daniel leaned against my car, snowflakes beginning to catch in his short dark hair. His breath smoked out on a long, slow exhale before he gave me a smile. I stood in the space between my car and the car next to me, hands tucked into the pockets of my coat, unsure of what to say.

I'd managed a whole evening free of awkward pauses until then. Or maybe it was just awkward to me. Daniel didn't seem bothered by the silence.

"This is fun," he finally said. "Just being able to go out like this."

I gave him a small smile and leaned against my car as well. "You sound like it's been awhile since you've just done something fun."

He laughed. He's got such a nice laugh—the kind that automatically makes you smile in response. Scrubbing his hand through his hair to dislodge some of the accumulating snow, he said, "Not exactly."

I frowned, a little baffled by that. Still am, to be honest.

"I just mean..." He trailed off, frowning like he knew how strange his answer had been. He shook his head and smiled a little sadly, looking down at the snowy asphalt. "I never know how much to say."

Now this was definitely weird. I mean, we'd been talking all night.

Although...now that I'm sitting here thinking about it...he never actually really talked about himself. He talked about the places he'd been. That's not exactly the same thing, now is it?

When I couldn't find an appropriate response to that—or any response, really—he looked back up at me. His tongue briefly touched his upper lip, his gaze pensive. Then he shook his head, but I got the feeling it was more at himself than me.

"I really like you, Abby," he said, one hand rubbing bashfully at the nape of his neck, the other sinking into the back pocket of his jeans. "I'd...I'd like to see you again. If that's okay?"

"Yes!" 

Again, the word just burst out. Like I couldn't answer fast enough. I hadn't even given myself any time to think. It wasn't needed. I already knew how badly I wanted to see him again, even with him standing right there in front of me.

That dazzling grin of his lit up his face and I bit my lip, a strange sense of deja vu sweeping over me. I'd been feeling that way all night—like I was discovering some hidden place I'd been to before as a child, then rediscovered as an adult.

It was exciting.

"Tomorrow?" he asked, taking a quick step toward me, his excitement setting the gold flecks in his irises shimmering.

Again, I was nodding before I'd made the conscious decision to do so.

Sitting here after the fact, I'm beginning to wonder if I should be worried about how readily I agree to everything he says. At the moment, though, I'm too tired to work up any real paranoia. Besides, I really don't think I have anything to worry about with Daniel.

Much to my disappointment, he didn't even try to kiss me. Or...am I disappointed? I was, but the longer I think about it, the more I like it. It makes him seem—I don't know—gallant?

But that sounds stupid.

Of course, I've been sitting here sounding stupid about him for this whole entry, so I guess gallant it is.

He opened my car door for me, leaning over the top when I'd gotten in and cranked the engine. A crooked little smile played at the corner of his mouth as he extended his hand. "I want to get to know you, Abby," he said when I'd placed my hand in his. "I want to know everything about this you."

Flattered, I couldn't help but smile up at him, and express my desire for the same thing concerning him. He'd squeezed my fingers gently before bidding me goodnight. I'd watched as he walked across the dark parking lot to his own car, my hand cradled to my chest like some kind of precious baby bird.  

Even now it feels warm, like my skin remembers the imprint of his.

Now I definitely sound like a teenage girl... Ugh.

Look, I don't believe in love at first sight.

But—between you, me and the fencepost—I'm beginning to think this is something a little stronger than that.

Tomorrow, I'm driving out to meet him at some little diner he claims has the best pancakes in the world.

Maybe something exciting will happen. 

For now, I'm going to bed. With snow on the ground, driving tomorrow morning is going to be a nightmare.