The Eyes of My Date

I don’t understand…we were supposed to go out and get dinner. Why did she eat before? Was she thinking of me when she did? Is she thinking of me now as I’m walking to meet her?

It’s a remarkable night in the city. The cool air is crisp and inviting; even the street lamps shines a light of contentment. They’re looking at me. Each light is staring. If they could speak I wonder what they’d tell me.

Well I’m here. It’s 8:30 like she said, but obviously I’m going to have to wait another fifteen minutes – hopefully just fifteen. I need to see her initial reaction to me. That’ll tell me what I need to know. Okay, okay here she comes. Calm down. Just be normal.

Hey it’s so nice to see you.
No I wasn’t waiting too long it’s alright.
Oh really?
Yeah I guess we can stop there.
How long has it not been working?
That really sucks. I feel disconnected without my phone. I get it.
Really? Wait, at what time?
So that only gives us like two hours before we have to head back.
Why do you have to be back?
Oh, alright.

Wow, either she’s sending me an enormous message or she really has no regard for other people’s time. Those glasses look incredible on her. They’re blacker than her hair. Blacker than her eyes. Why do her eyes seem black?

I was thinking we’d go to this new lounge I looked into.
It’s a little further uptown but I’d rather just go someplace closer since we’re really short on time now, and I’d rather spend as much time out as we can. This is ridiculous.
You said you like red wine, right?
I’m not the biggest wine person but I think I’ll get a white.

Hello… can you please look at me! Jesus Christ, don’t you want to make a good impression? Why do you wear glasses if you’re not going to put them to good use? And yes, I’m good use. Please take the time to realize this.

Wow, look at that couple. I don’t even see them; they’re invisible, just two pairs of eyeballs fixated on one another. Their forks are levitating and throwing food all over but they don’t even seem to notice.

Yeah, I’m a pretty big sports person.
Surprisingly I’ve never actually gone skiing. Well, once when I was much younger, but that doesn’t really count.
Hah, yeah, but if you went with me you would be off on the slopes while I’d be on the bunny slopes. And by the second day, when I’m in excruciating pain from falling and mentally unstable from the fear of falling again, I’d be sitting in the lodge while you went off into the snow.
But I do want to go ice skating. That’s a winter sport I think we should do.

She’s more excited about a fake skiing trip with me than about a real prospective activity. Why would she even suggest skiing? Is she toying with me or does she actually want to spend time together? I would love to take her on a trip. She and I together, maybe we could just be eyeballs. It would be harder to ski but eyes are more important. Then at night, by the fire, we’d curl up and our eyes would grow back their bodies. Her black curls in my face with the scent of snow and the nature it absorbs tingling my senses. What a trip that would be!

No I’ve never been the biggest reader.
Sure. How is this going to work?
Okay I’ll read both.

Alright let me see. This one’s not bad. I wonder if she’s showing me this because of the genetics content. She knows I’m a man of science.

This one is intense – so much imagery and so dark. I think this is her work.

They’re both really interesting.
Um…I think I’m more into stories that focus on character development and paint a realistic picture.
The last book I read was…“A Short History of Philosophy.” It’s not a novel, but it has pages and words so I’ll say it counts.
It was really helpful in terms of presenting the history of philosophy as a web of ideas and theories as opposed to giving names and dates.
Surprisingly I found myself agreeing with philosophers I never would have imagined.
Nietzsche and Schopenhauer.
He found the existence to be mostly suffering, but believed one can escape through the aesthetics of the world, the beauty found in it.

Maybe I don’t actually believe this. This date is suffering to its core. The restaurant is holding me captive and torturing me. The most pathetic part is that I volunteered. I wanted this. I still do. You always think you’re smart enough to avoid situations like this, but once you’re in the box it’s impossible to see it from the outside; eyes have limits like all other things. This is suffering. Yet, the beauty at arm’s length is the cause. It’s pretty ironic that I just expressed this belief to its disproof.

Yeah, you really should. You’re an intellectual person; you would really appreciate the thoughtfulness of the philosophers. I would think that literature and philosophy would be tied together.
No? Okay, I could be wrong.

It’s so difficult to think of something to talk about when all I want to ask is why you are doing this to me.

So you only have one sister? Brilliant.
Ah you’re lucky that you’re not a middle child.
Yeah, I’m sandwiched between two brothers. Unfortunately, I have middle child syndrome like you’ve never seen it. Of course, I got all of the negative aspects: the empty feelings, psychosis of wondering what other people are thinking, and other fun stuff. But I didn’t get the one positive aspect: being artistic. I haven’t drawn something resembling anything real in years, well maybe by accident.
An example? Okay. Imagine you’re sitting with all your family in a room. Everyone’s talking, pretending like they’re enjoying each other’s company. But when you speak or look around at everyone else, no one is looking back at you. You feel like you could stand up and leave, and they would carry on with no hesitation, no objection. This particular situation didn’t happen, but it’s along the same lines.
Yeah, I do a pretty good job of covering it up. You’d never notice it. It’s all up here. One day my head’s going to explode from the things that go on up there that aren’t released into the open.
Thanks, I appreciate that.
Hah, I know this isn’t the most fun topic to discuss but I can assure you, despite what I just told you, I tend to not be too serious. Don’t get me wrong…I love to discuss intellectual subjects, but being silly and laughing appeals more to me.
No, well, you have to be back, so forget about it.
Yeah, we’ll just go now.
Of course I liked it. You said it was your favorite place. How could I not?

You wonder sometimes what goes through other people’s heads. I can imagine all I want and will never approach the mystery of her mind and actions. I stare into her eyes and read a sheet of blank paper. There’s something written on it but she blinks and looks away.

I walk next to a rarity of a girl, who appears more perfect than anyone I could fathom. I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else but here. This feels so right to me. But I hate her. She torments me, doesn’t let me breathe. Why can’t she just let me in? I can be perfect for her too if she would give this a chance. Just please give me more than a glimpse at your eyes. You won’t even let me get to know something so external.

By the way, what color are your eyes? I can’t tell.