128 Days - 12:47 pm

'How many times do I have to say it, Chris? I do not need to get laid and I am not going out with you and PJ tonight, or any other night!'

My lunch break; what I had decided should be a pleasant stroll in the park a few streets down from the radio studio had turned sour thanks to one quick phone call from Chris. All it took was one little insensitive suggestion to make sure I'd remain grumpy for the rest of the day. That was just Chris though; he'd never exactly been known for his social delicacy.

'See, it's outbursts like this that indicate to me you do in fact need to get laid.' Even through the white noise of bad phone reception I could hear the cheeky grin in his words and I groaned, not even bothering to hide my discontent any more. It wasn't like this was the first time I'd told him to piss off in regard to his attempts to set me up; I'd long since passed the point of feeling sorry for him for trying so hard with me. It reached a point where his 'kindness' was just frustrating and his 'favours' were much more just a pain in the backside.

'If I didn't have to be back at the station in ten minutes I swear I would come over right now to kick your ass, Kendall,' I muttered, scuffing my shoes along the ground and watching the small pieces of gravel dart out of the way of my impending stomp, wondering as I stared down at the ground if hanging up on him would solve my problems or just make them worse later. Probably the latter; Chris would exact his revenge some way or another and I'd probably regret the impulsive action then even if I was suffering through his cocky attitude right now.

'Sure you would.' He laughed. I rolled my eyes. Although in his skepticism ran a vein of truth; I was getting myself nowhere because Chris was just as stubborn as I was and he wouldn't give in, no matter how much I complained. He never had in the past at least, and I didn't expect this time to be any different. Inevitably I probably would give in just to shut him up for a while. 'We both know I'd win in a fight, just like I'm going to win this one now.' Apparently he'd figured the same.

'Chris, no,' I whined, head falling back as I squeezed my eyes shut against the thought of being dragged out to a loud night club on a Friday evening by the two people I had to question why I was still friends with sometimes. It wasn't like I didn't already know how the night would go: the first few drinks Chris would spend pointing out any, and probably every, guy who wasn't obviously taken and pushing me onto them. I'd stutter out an apology on behalf of my tipsy friend and PJ would try, then fail, to reign his reckless boyfriend back in to prevent further damage.

A few more drinks and Chris would abandon all attempts of hooking me up and I'd end up forgotten in a corner, the uncomfortable third wheel to the pair of them, a fate which would last a few lonely hours until eventually, at around one in the morning, I'd be helping PJ carry a half unconscious Chris out the door to load him into a cab, leaving me to find my own way home where I'd lay in bed staring up at the ceiling for a few hours regretting each and every single one of my life choices up to that moment.

Eventually I'd fall asleep alone and Chris would wake up the next morning having forgotten what a complete failure nights like these were and in a few weeks he'd tried all over again. A lot of my life right now just seemed to be a battle of endurance until he finally gave up on me for good, and apparently tonight would be no different.

'Chris yes!' Involuntarily I gripped the phone tighter, wondering vaguely how much of a public scene it would really make if I collapsed to the ground screaming and yanking my own hair out in chunks like Chris was beginning to make me feel like doing. 'Look, I don't see what your problem is? Let us take you out. We can have a few drinks, catch up-'

'You'll get completely pissed but not before I hear all the latest details of your vivacious sex life.'

'-and me and Peej will be your wingman,' Chris continued enthusiastically, unfazed by my interruption. 'We'll hook you up with a right nice piece of-'

'Chris! For god's sake, I don't need you sorting out my love life for me, okay!' If my now raised voice was earning any annoyed glares from fellow pedestrians I took no notice, more preoccupied with combatting Chris on the other side of the phone.

'Or lack thereof,' he countered as I gritted my teeth, staring down angrily at the ground so at least I didn't accidentally glare at some innocent stranger. 'You need to get back out there, mate!' And we were back to this stupid argument again, the one I hated Chris the most for.

As much as I hated to say it, when it came to relationships Chris was sort of…easy. I mean, I loved the guy deep down, but in the four years I'd known him he'd never been longer than a month without a boyfriend. Bordering on a year now, his relationship with PJ was by far the longest, but having spent his whole life flitting from one guy to the next he'd never really been able to grasp the concept of being single by choice. Chris was sometimes just a bit too casual about things for my liking, considering his idea of a breakup was to get drunk and magically wake up the next morning both with a hangover and the ability to move on like the last however many months of his life hadn't even happened.

'What I do or don't do with my life is really none of your business, Chris,' I muttered, praying for a miracle that he got the hint: I was done talking about it with him, if I'd ever been ready to start. 'I'll date again when I'm ready, okay?'

'It's been two years since Carter, Phil! Surely you're over that by-'

'My business, Chris!'

'Okay, okay, jeez, relax. Fine, if you're that touchy I promise I won't try and set you up. You should still come out with us tonight, though. Nothing, I swear, I won't try anything,' he added quickly hearing my sharp intake of breath, preparing to fire off another rant about respecting people's personal decisions, a lesson Chris had quite clearly skived from when it was being taught. 'It will be fun though, please, please, please, Phil! I haven't seen you in, like, two whole days!'

Pinching the bridge of my nose I let out the deep breath I'd been holding, weighing up my pros and cons. As it went there were an awful lots of cons but if one good thing were to come out of this it would be at least shutting Chris up for a while. As he continued to beg down the phone this appealed to my need for some immediate satisfaction, but reluctantly I knew I would probably agree in the end anyway. May as well get it over with, not that I was going to let Chris know I was giving in that easily.

'I'll think about it, okay,' I agreed, shaking my head to myself, hearing Chris' triumphant whoop in the background and the sudden scraping of a chair which sounded like he'd leapt up to immediately race and find PJ to tell him the news. 'No promises,' I added quickly before he got too excited but knew it was already too late for that. 'I have to check how much work I've still got to umph- '

My thought and my step were stopped abruptly at the same time as I collided with what was rather a solid object I was sure hadn't been in my line of movement a moment ago. I felt the light flutter of paper brush past my arm as instinctively I reached out to grab whatever was in front of me in order to hold myself steady, but instead I caught the shoulder of a boy who seemed almost as shocked as I was.

'I'm s-sorry, I wasn't looking where I was going, oh god, I'm s-so sorry,' he stammered, taking a sudden step backwards and nearly falling if it weren't for my quick reaction. Reaching out with my other hand, in which I still gripped my phone, I held him upright, shaking my head as I interjected: 'No, don't be stupid. All my fault. Are you okay?'

The boy made quick eye contact with me as I looked him over before he hastily glanced away again, his cheeks flushing pink as he shook himself out of my touch, brushing himself off uncomfortably like I'd left some sort of residue. 'It's okay. It's fine, really,' he muttered, reaching up to run a nervous hand through his brown fringe before he glanced down at the ground. Following his gaze only made me feel worse as I realised our collision had spilt quite a lot of loose sheets of paper from the folder the boy had been carrying. Blushing a deeper red, he avoided my gaze as I tried to apologise once more.

'Here, let me help,' I offered, ducking down with him to scoop up the sheets. 'I'm so sorry, I wasn't paying attention,' I condemned myself but felt a renewed surge of anger towards Chris. Somehow this was his fault; if he hadn't been distracting me with his bloody match-making plans…

'It's fine. You don't have to, please,' the boy begged, more embarrassed than I was. I shook him off, however, piling all the sheets I could reach before he did into a more organized stack. 'Do these go in any order?' I asked before I really looked at what exactly it was I was picking up. There must have been at least a hundred sheets scattered around us like oversized confetti, each one just blocks of text. Without really meaning to I read a few of the words, realising it was some sort of story; guess the guy was a writer.

'Uh, they have numbers,' he pointed out quietly, indicating to the bottom right corner of a sheet he was holding. 'It doesn't matter though, I can do that later. Please don't read it, it's rubbish,' he added in quite possibly the smallest voice I'd ever heard. Clearly he was still somewhat flustered from our little run in, so I tried to smile kindly as I handed over the last of the sheets but despite my best efforts not much seemed to set him at ease.

'I'm sure it's not, but here you go. Again, I'm sorry. I won't keep you any longer,' I added with what I hoped was a friendly smile as we stood up but from the way he looked up at me with those frightened brown eyes you might have guessed I was about to murder him. Glancing down again to the ground he nodded, accepting the papers and shoving them roughly back into his file before we both stood awkwardly for a second, the moment broken as soon as the boy decided he'd stood around like a deer in the headlights long enough and he turned and began walking away.

Only a second I spent frowning after him, wondering about his odd behaviour before it was pushed to the back of my mind by the tinny voice calling my name from my hand. Chris. He was still on the phone.

'Phil! You still there mate?' He called frantically and turning back to exit the park I brought the phone up to my ear once more, replying quickly. 'Yeah, yeah, I'm here. Sorry, just…walked into some guy 'cause I was too busy being pissed at you to look where I was going. Thanks, by the way,' I explained sarcastically still only just standing there.

'Was he cute?'

Of course, that would be the first thing Chris asked me. For all he knew I'd just collided with an 80 year old man in a wheelchair but then again, I thought to myself with the hint of a smile, was he cute would probably still be the first thing Chris asked me. At this point I'm pretty sure Chris would try and set me up with a dung beetle, he thought I was that desperate.

'I don't know, I didn't really pay attention,' I replied truthfully, trying and failing to bring to mind a vivid enough memory to tell even though it had only been a minute since I'd seen him; I really hadn't noticed much to comment either way on.

'Sure you didn't,' Chris was replying, clearly reluctant to believe, but that was as good as he was going to get from me, although I knew he'd try to exaggerate the whole thing. 'And is that the reason you sounded so incredibly flustered speaking to him then, that he wasn't cute?'

Arguing with Chris' cocky nature should have been easy, routine even, but I found it harder to argue with my own instinct to blush, my cheeks heating upon reflex for feelings I hadn't even been aware I'd felt. No, I thought, immediately second-guessing and self correcting; I was only embarrassed because I'd walked into the guy and that was a perfectly acceptable excuse for seeming flustered, not to mention knocking all his papers to the ground.

'No,' I retorted quickly before my pause grew long enough for Chris to get the very wrong idea but I couldn't even convince myself thoroughly. Honestly it had been so long since I'd had any sort of feelings for another guy I was quite sure I'd forgotten what it even felt like; maybe I had confused attraction for embarrassment. Was that even possible? One thing was for sure: I should definitely be getting out of the house more.

'I knew it!' Chris was exclaiming down the other end of the phone line while I shook my head though he couldn't see, bringing a tired hand to my forehead as I looked down. 'Quick, go! Chase after him! Get his number!' His encouragement continued on as background noise to the worry filling my head, fears creeping up to take hold in a familiar place but they didn't get far as I was distracted by the dirty piece of paper that caught my eye instead, stopping such insecurities in their path.

Stuck to the bottom of my shoe I knew exactly what it was before I even reached down to pluck it from the rubber sole: the cover page to the manuscript I'd knocked out of some poor writer's arms. Now that writer had a name.

'The Alternatives,' I read the title aloud, yet softly to myself, ignoring Chris for a second but not that he heard anyway, too busy rambling and piling up the call minutes as I stared at the neat print decorating the dusty sheet, blank save for the three words directly below it. Daniel James Howell. Now I was interested, prepared to be cautious of course, but I couldn't deny I was slightly intrigued and just like that I realised Chris had already succeeded into pushing me somewhere I'd thought I hadn't wanted to go. It was clear I had entirely an all too loose a grip on myself or maybe I was just as desperate as Chris liked to tell me.

'All right, all right,' I sighed, cutting him off but I could hear the smile through his excited squeal from the other end. 'Seeing as I don't have much choice,' I muttered as an after thought, still staring at the paper I held but Chris took no offence. He never did which was the root of most people's problems with him. Honestly I felt sorry for PJ sometimes, and myself, but annoying as Chris was sometimes, just sometimes, he did get things right. I could only hope I'd find the courage within myself to let this be one of those times.

'No, you don't have a choice. Go, go now, before he gets away. This is so exciting! It's the most interest you've shown in a guy in forever!' I sighed, wishing I could feel just some of his enthusiasm but that was hard when I had greater worries resting on my mind now, weighing me down.

'Right, whatever. I'm hanging up on you now, Chris,' I added shortly, not waiting to hear his protests. I really didn't need him babbling in my ear the whole time I tried to collect myself so I didn't fall completely to pieces when I spoke to the guy. Daniel. Fairly common as names went so I could only hope the man behind the name was somewhat less so. I'd done common before, thinking simple would be nicer, easier, and I was in no hurry to repeat the experiences from two years ago. Common wasn't worth it.

'See you later,' and I clicked off the phone, relishing in the silence it bought as I told myself to take a deep breath. Clutching the paper tightly but careful not to rumple it beyond the damage I'd already caused, I walked back the direction I'd come, a fast pace and before I'd even properly had time to remind myself no expectations, I was launching myself headfirst into what could become something but really who knew what was about to happen. Really taking a massive leap out of my comfort zone here, I thought right before taking the breath that would become the first potentially promising words I spoke to him.

'Daniel?'

The boy jumped, spinning around at the sound of his name when I drew near enough behind him for him to hear me. As he turned he did so with a petrified expression carved on his features, which I forced myself to take notice of now instead of berating myself for taking possibly the stupidest approach. Calling out his name when he'd obviously have no idea how I knew it. Honestly, no wonder he looked terrified, but I was trying to focus on other things.

Brown eyes, I noted, brown hair too, swept messily to the side, and the slightest hint of a tan that served only to give him a soft glow's worth more than my own pale complexion. Rounded, simple features. All in all, nothing immediately obvious to me as particularly stunning but I'd always been able to appreciate beauty much better from the inside. It was never someone's features that attracted me but the expressions they could make and the story they could tell with them. From here it was just a matter of hoping I found him interesting enough to be worth my time, lest I waste however many more weeks of my life on something I'd only regret all over again like last time.

'H-how do you know my name?' The boy stammered, throwing a jerky glance over his shoulder that emitted a certain paranoia in response to the situation. When he turned back to me, his eyes were so wide with fright my only goal then was to provide what little comfort I could and hope it made him feel at least somewhat better if just to ease my own guilt.

I took a deep breath before answering, forcing myself to stay open and let myself feel whatever I was going to feel in regards to this boy; I knew what my problem all the times before had been and if I was ever going to open up to another person again I knew first I had to let go of all the fears that held me back from opening up to myself. After two years of emotional isolation the feelings would be foreign at first, of course where I wasn't used to it, but there couldn't be much harm in allowing myself to put just a little trust in this boy and let him evoke a few emotions.

After all, I reminded myself, having no true expectations, all this was just testing out the waters anyway, I tried to kid myself. I was checking I could in fact still decide what even attracted me, if I hadn't cut myself off in that respect for so long I'd lost the ability all together. And how much harm could such an innocent looking boy really do me?

'Sorry,' I replied quickly, becoming aware in the moment the boy broke eye contact that until then I'd only been staring without saying a word. Unsure of what to say next, however, I settled just for holding the paper out to him, trying to brush the dusty footprint off before he could notice.

The boy- Daniel, I corrected myself in my head- took the paper silently from me, gaze trained downwards like he'd rather make eye contact with the words on the page than with me, but at least his features were no longer frozen in their previous expression of fright; it was now clear to him how I'd learnt his name.

However, to replace fear was not the emotion of relief, as you might expect would follow the confirmation that you were not, in fact, being staked by a stranger. Instead Daniel remained unsure of me, only timidly raising his head and hesitantly meeting my gaze before holding it much like prey caught out by the predator. His features seemed to soften only minutely as I gave him a somewhat forced smile, trying to decide whether this whole encounter was awkward by anyone's standards or if I was just as out of practice as Chris assumed.

'Interesting title,' I commented if only for lack of anything better to say, already regretting my decision to chase after him. I should have changed my mind when I still had the chance and the will power to overcome any encouragement from Chris. I supposed I had hoped for interesting, although while so far this Daniel was hardly proving to react like any common member of society, that was mostly due to a lack of reaction at all.

'Uh, are you trying to get published?' I tried again with my pitiful attempts at small talk, wondering just how much more excruciating this could get, when the guy would relax so we both could. No expectations, I had told myself, however, and reminded myself of this now; perhaps Daniel James Howell simply fell into the category of people who were shy at first and only opened up once you got to know them. The opposite of me, I noted, who would happily converse with almost anyone moments after meeting them. So why was I finding it so hard to engage in conversation now? I really was out of practice.

Finally, though, apparently I'd said the right thing and standing there in the middle of the gravel path, in the middle of my favourite park, with me slowly running more and more late for my return to work post-lunch break, Daniel James Howell stuttered and mumbled his way through a reply to me and I found myself almost feeling sorry for how nervous he felt. At least I would have, if that sympathy wasn't busy cowering behind the stronger feeling of insult I experienced. Was I really that hard to talk to, or was Daniel just particularly bad at conversations with strangers?

'Uh, um, not this one. It's, uh, more of a memoir, sort of, and uh, it's Dan. Y-you can call me Dan.' He struggled through a small smile and I noted for the first time when he did, while he wasn't the most attractive guy I'd ever seen, he was far from the worst too. Feelings of guilt crept up and quickly swallowed any appreciation I might have had of his physicality, however, as only upon hearing his answer did I remember the few words I'd inevitably read when helping him pick up the papers I'd knocked from his hold. From what I could remember, it hadn't seemed overly personal but evidently it was, unless he was lying to me but we were still only two strangers in the park so he had no reason to.

We were two strangers who apparently didn't have much left to say to one another and sighing softly in the moment we kept our eye contact, I quietly resigned myself to counting this first half attempt to meet new people as a failure. There were probably loads of things I could have said then to maybe turn things around but I was doubtful Dan would respond in any way more enthusiastically than he had to me thus far. It was quite clear in how anxious he seemed standing in front of me that I was hardly someone he'd be interested in, even if I found a way to be interested in him. I might as well drop it now, especially seeing as he couldn't maintain eye contact for more than a few seconds with me. Failure.

My assumptions were confirmed a moment later when Dan glanced back, his brown eyes almost reluctantly meeting mine as I tried not to feel hurt by his evasiveness, and he cleared his throat with a small cough, his voice coming out stronger now. 'Um, thanks again,' he nodded towards the paper he held in both hands while the rest in the file were tucked under his arm, paper in hand scrunched slightly as he made two fists. His expression now was conflicted, a frown appearing that furrowed his brow and seemed to push his eyes back deeper set into his skull. The second of confidence he might have had was gone again as he added to his words, voice faltering like he'd changed his mind at the last second. I watched curiously on, waiting patiently for something interesting but to no avail.

'I, uh, guess you'll be going now? You looked like you were in a hurry,' he muttered, and I must have been mistaken in thinking I heard an ounce of disappointment to his tone because obviously this was my cue to leave and forget about him. And then spend the rest of the day working out to admit to Chris what a complete disaster it had been. Well, if I was getting back on the dating scene I had to start somewhere I supposed.

'Uh, yeah,' I agreed both reluctantly because I hadn't wanted to end this on such a disastrous note, but also willingly on the front of needing a quick escape due to just how embarrassing a failure it had been. Maybe I was just overthinking, it can't have been that bad, but either way it was clear I was supposed to leave now. 'I guess I'll just…' My words trailed off as I gestured behind me, already backing away, trying not to notice if Dan was looking at me or not.

It's fine, I reassured myself as I turned around, you'll never see him again anyway and five minutes ago you'd have thought nothing of that. It was only because of that damn bit of paper stuck to your shoe…

'Wait!'

The cry was desperate coming from right behind me and although it wasn't very loud at all, in the five minutes I'd known Dan it was an impressive volume for him to say the least. The sheer urgency of his voice had me spinning on the spot, heart soaring in hope for just a second before I wrangled it back in with a figurative lasso. Five minutes was certainly too soon for those sorts of feelings; I was doing things differently this time, I reminded myself.

The Dan standing in front of me now was somehow transformed from the Dan I'd turned away from. Still nervous, the paper in his hands ripped almost in two, torn apart by the anxious clenching of fists, but his brown eyes were alight now with a look more determined. He wanted something, I could tell, only he was scared of asking.

'I'm never going to see you again, am I?' he gasped, already shaking his head and frowning like he was mentally scribbling his words out. His mouth opened as he was about to try again but I saved him the agony, speaking instead and hazarding my best guess at what he was trying to say as I wasn't sure at this rate, if I didn't infer, we'd ever get anywhere.

'Um, that would depend I guess,' I began slowly, frowning and focussing on the pink tinge to his cheeks instead of my own worries of how much worse I could make things if I was reading his body language wrong right now. I was out of practice after all. 'Would you want to?' I asked, the words hesitant, reaching the edge of my tongue and just tipping off instead of flowing smoothly. To my surprise, Dan's reaction was more than I could have hoped for, and certainly more than anyone would have expected.

His cheeks bunched up with the wide smile that spread across his lips and I was delighted to notice he had the cutest little dimples, previously hidden by his anxious frowns. Below me he suddenly seemed very small, much smaller than just the few inches that separated us in reality and I almost let myself imagine a future of eliciting that exact smile before stopping such thoughts in their track. I wouldn't let my mind get ahead of itself, I couldn't sacrifice myself again like that, not this time.

Taking the moment as it came, I examined the facts; Dan was attractive. He was a somewhat shy writer but could find small bursts of confidence when he had to. He would probably open up more if he got to know me. And, importantly, he seemed willing to get to know me, standing in front of me now with a pleasant blush highlighting his cheeks, brown irises just about meeting mine, looking up from under dark lashes. I should take him up on this offer, it was the best I'd gotten in two years.

'Well, I mean, you, uh, you seem nice, and interesting, and, uh…' Dan, back to his usual stutter-y self. He wasn't exactly making things easy for me but maybe with time he'd get better, or I'd get used to it. Some people just weren't as confident with first impressions and I didn't hate him so I found myself agreeing, flirting even.

'You seem interesting too, Dan. I'm Phil by the way, and uh, we both seem to be a little bad at this,' I joked, watching Dan's blush deepen. My own nervous laughter escaped my chest as familiar feelings of promised intimacy began to creep out from where they'd been buried away for so long. I'd practically forgotten what meeting someone new actually felt like, so I tried to reassure myself it was probably always this awkward.

Either way, I was planning on taking things in small enough steps I'd have plenty of time to back out if I needed to. No expectations, and that included any notion that the first guy I ran into would be the right fit. One date, I promised myself, and if he wasn't perfect after one date I would move on. And if the next guy wasn't perfect after one date I'd move on again and again and would go no further until I'd met The One. Not like last time, I would not fall into that trap again.

'So,' I continued, more confident in myself now I'd settled on my plan. You've got one chance Daniel James Howell. 'Do you want to maybe meet up again sometime? Like for a date, I mean, not just randomly in this park.'

Keeping things light, keeping things casual. I was refraining from forcing any deeper feelings that didn't really exist because that had been my problem last time. If I kept everything shallow, on the surface, I wouldn't drown but one date should be enough to help me discover anything deeper lurking just beneath the surface. I wouldn't fish it out unless it was already breaking through the waves on it's own. That way I could be sure any feelings that came out this were the real deal.

So I let Dan smile shyly at me but I didn't force a smile back. If a small smile of affectionate wanted to present itself, it would and I wouldn't be able to stop it but unless that was the case I promised myself I would force nothing. I knew only too well the perils of falling much too quickly for someone who didn't deserve it, letting yourself loose in love before they'd really gained your trust; that was the way trust was all too easily broken.

'Yeah, I'd really like that.' Clutching his folder bursting with papers tightly to his chest now, Dan smiled through his words, unaware of my cautionary reaction which made me realise I was actually jealous. He'd obviously never been hurt like I had, he saw no danger like I knew was forever lurking around the corner of new beginnings. You learn from your mistakes, however, and I'd made enough in my life to know the lesson well.

'Great,' I replied with just enough enthusiasm to let myself be believable, yet not as much as a younger and less wise version of myself might have. 'When are you free then?' Dan's cheeks remained pink, a constant pink flush at my every word as if he'd never been asked out before. Then again, I wondered suddenly, if he was always this shy perhaps he never had. That thought was quickly shook from my mind though; I didn't need that pressure nor the guilt that would inevitably come when after our first date I realised I really wasn't cut out for this after all. It was impossible to tell at this stage, really.

'I'm a writer,' Dan was replying while I struggled to keep my worries reasonable and on track; I hated to think what it might do to Dan's confidence if he caught me not paying sufficient attention because I'd gotten lost in my own thoughts. 'I'm pretty much free whenever,' he explained with a sly smile and a soft shrug while he was almost rocking back and forth on his heels in front of me. Somehow he'd moved in closer, or I'd only just noticed how close we really were standing in that moment when I smiled back, gaze sliding over his lips before I settled on a final decision.

Yes, I found Dan physically attractive, however, that didn't prove much because I knew it wasn't his physical appearance I was trying to decide if I could fall in love with, find true love in this time. Going just for looks had been another mistake I'd already made at a much younger, stupider age.

'How about I give you a call…this weekend then? Tomorrow maybe?' The words slipped out in my eagerness only to be immediately second guessed; tomorrow was way too desperate, wasn't it? Dan was going to think I was being clingy already and maybe I was, I was moving too fast, I was fucking things up for myself already, this was the first step on the road to disaster, I-

'Tomorrow sounds perfect,' Dan replied and the softness to his voice snapped me out of my own head back to the reality where Dan didn't think tomorrow was so soon and I figured instead, the sooner I got the first date over and done with, the sooner I could decide if I'd just met the man I wanted to spend the rest of my life with or not.

And I'd definitely need that date to decide because currently my mind was racing back and forth between recurring thoughts of don't get ahead of yourself now and well don't get carried away but feel something at least, and I just couldn't tell yet if I was feeling too much or too little. This wasn't like the movies where there was some kind of Love At First Sight deal, it was much harder.

Dan smiled, and sure he had a cute smile but the sight didn't warm me from my head to my toes with affection. Our hands brushed as I passed over my phone into which he could add himself as my newest contact, but there was no electricity. For a second as we exchanged a nervous goodbye, I was stuck on the scary thought of what if after two years I'd just lost the ability to fall in love at all. IfI couldn't tell how I felt about Dan right now, who's to say I'd be able to tell if I felt anything promising after our date either, if I even could feel anything for him. Maybe when I'd been emotionally broken the last time it had turned out to be permanent.

Walking away from Dan I was uncomfortable and remained so the entire afternoon. Lost in some sort of limbo of my own mind, the same thoughts were swirling and whirling and chasing one another, turning my mind into a war zone as they fought, but with neither side gaining the upper hand. So much good it had been telling myself to make sure I took things slow if I was already panicking and overthinking, and I was sure dating had never been this stressful before but that was probably just because by this stage I'd already be halfway to falling madly and hopelessly in love.

In the effort of avoiding a repetition of all those dumb, younger mistakes by forcing myself not to pay Dan the attention I should have, I realised I'd lost my bearings and simply couldn't tell how I felt about him at all. I should know by now, at least, if he was even worth one date and yet I'd gone ahead and locked myself in before I'd even reached a conclusion.

It had been his fault, though, he'd pushed me into it; if he hadn't been so damn awkward about asking me I wouldn't have felt the need to take control and ask him myself. Then again, even if he had asked me, I knew I would have been too awkward as well to tell him no, which left me in the same situation either way.

Things weren't supposed to be this confusing this early on, were they, but honestly I had no idea if this sort of overanalyzing was normal or not because I hadn't felt this high-strung at the start of any other relationship and look how well they'd turned out. Maybe this different was a good different, although the stress I felt all throughout the remainder of the day hardly felt good, so maybe I shouldn't have even been going on a date with him at all.