So I’ve kind of met this guy… he goes to my university and lives not far from me. Only two doors down to be exact, and I don’t mean two houses down, I mean bedroom doors. Yes that’s right; I have fallen in love with my house mate.
If you have not already guessed, his name is Erik. He is blonde with blue eyes and is a Canadian of German descent. After a fortnight of side glances, four-hour long talks, and subtle brushes of hands, I finally confessed how I felt. It was one of those moments where you take a deep breath and it seems to last you forever. You begin to wonder when you will need to breathe again and if the answer you are looking for will come before the next breath. He gives me his answer and I exhale with a smile.
On Mondays our house mates have night classes until nine o’clock so Erik and I have decided to make this our date night. When the clock struck five on Monday night we put on our glad-rags and headed for the city. Erik in his smart shirt and trousers and me in my emerald hourglass dress. We wandered around ByWard market until we started to get “hangry” and I finally chose the Clock Tower brew pub. My reasoning being that it reminded me of the clock tower in Back To The Future where one of the greatest movie trilogies began.
I would tell you that the food was good and our waitress was lovely or that the atmosphere was friendly but frankly all I remember from the meal was our conversation and the way Erik looked at me and the feeling of being together. Being able to kiss him whenever I want felt like such a relief after weeks of holding back and fretting about the consequences. We are in love and can finally show each other how we feel. Our conversations were full of honest tales and warm laughter and intermittent kisses.
Before long, two or three hours had passed and we paid for the bill and headed out for dessert. Of course we chose fro-yo. A blend of cinnamon, red velvet, chocolate orange and cake batter frozen yoghurt with reeses pieces and cookie dough balls. It was incredible. But my favourite parts of the night were yet to come. Round the corner we came across a musician playing George Michael’s Careless Whispers on the saxophone. I grabbed Erik’s hands and pulled him into a slow dance. People around us smiled and the musician played more enthusiastically than before. We danced along the street and made each other twirl and do silly dips. We laughed in the midst of young love and a young evening.
Then came the stars.
Erik led me towards a gallery balcony with shining lights and a beautiful view of the parliament. We gazed in awe at the buildings and the stars and at each other. The moon was almost full and it shone on us like the smile of my mother when I told her that I had met someone. And the stars filled our world like my mother’s laugh filled the room when I told her that it was Erik. We lay on the ground holding hands and talked about our lives and our futures and the stars and the constellations and how everything was connected.
In the distance we heard the clock tower strike half past twelve and we laughed and began to run for the last bus home. But it never came. When a different bus arrived we asked the driver if there were any more 86’s running. He shook his head and told us to get on board. And so we did, with confused and grateful expressions. The last stop arrived and we were only half way home, Erik and I headed for the exit but the driver stopped us and said “You two are staying with me”. We had ourselves a personal chauffeur for the evening. This lovely man called Rob had just finished his shift and decided to drive us all the way to the bus stop beside our house. On our way out we thanked Rob for his generosity and I told him that he had made the perfect end to our first date.
This has been a long post but I felt that I owed you an explanation for neglecting Scottawa on several occasions this week. I hope love is a good enough reason for you. It has definitely been a good enough reason for me.