I went out with my old friend today. I do not want to admit it, but part of me was hoping to see him as well. I had noticed that he usually came on Saturdays, so I asked my friend to meet me at the library first and then we would head to the park from there. That was just an excuse. The truth was that I did not want to miss the chance to see him.
When I arrived, he was not there. My friend did not know I liked someone, so I could not say anything. Still, I wanted to check. I started doing all these cringe things, making excuses to walk around the whole library.
Under the stairs, I spotted him. Well, not exactly him, just his hair. His head was on the table, and it looked like he was dozing off. I pointed him out to my friend and said he had the same hoodie as the one I bought, only mine was white. I said it a little too loudly, hoping he might hear me and raise his head. I was making the whole assumption just from his hair.
We moved on, and I told her we should look at books. Another excuse. I even pretended to record a video of her when the lights went out. As I did, I heard someone get up from one of the chairs. My heart jumped, I just knew it was him. And it was. Or at least I think it was. A flashlight appeared in the aisle, and I saw a man in a black hoodie reading a book. I looked away immediately, pretending not to notice.
After a while, he disappeared. I told my friend we should leave, just so I could pass by his table to see what book he had picked. But when we reached it, he was gone. All that was left was a book on Islamic history. I pointed it out and pretended to be curious about it.
When we finally went outside, I saw him walking in the garden. My excitement spiked instantly.
We were supposed to head to the car, but I stalled. I said I was hungry, so my friend stayed with me while I ate in the same area where he was walking. I tried to act normal, laughing and chatting, though I was buzzing inside. Eventually, someone came to pick him up. When he left, we left for the park.
Later, I told my brother about him and asked for advice. He just said to give him his number, and if he was serious, he would approach me.
~
Today was supposed to be the day. I told myself I would finally talk to him. The problem was that he was not a regular visitor. He came randomly, and our timings never matched. When he did show up, I always lost my nerve. But today I was determined.
My family went on a trip, and since I could not go, I decided to make something of the day. The morning did not start well. My chai cup fell and broke, tea spilling everywhere. Still, I stayed determined. It was winter, so I put on my coat and wore the outfit I had worn at an event last week. People had complimented me then, so I knew I looked nice. I just needed courage.
When I got to the library, he was already there in his usual spot. My heart sank. I had not planned on sitting opposite him since that would have been too obvious, but the lower floor was full, and the only empty chair was across from him. So I sat there.
There was a separator between us, thankfully, so I could not see his face and he could not see mine. But I could see his shoes, and even that was enough to make my heart race.
I sat there, trying to calm myself and think of what to do. My heart felt like it would leap out of my chest. Just as I was working up the courage, he got up and left. I stayed put, waiting. His things were still on the table, so I knew he would return. But the minutes dragged on and he did not come back.
I panicked. What if he did not return at all? Another guy I had liked stopped showing up one day, and I did not want to repeat that mistake. I texted my friend. She suggested I leave a note with just my number and maybe try to find out his name in the meantime. That part did not work.
While waiting, I moved to the entrance area with a Rumi book. From there, I could still see the spot where we had been sitting, so if he came back, I would know. As I sat there, the library director spotted me and invited me to a stress management workshop happening upstairs. I had no idea such a session was scheduled, but I was tired of waiting, so I agreed.
Before leaving, I scribbled my number on a note, slipped it into his notebook, and then went to the session.
When I walked in, the workshop was nearly over. The room was almost empty, which felt awkward enough. But then I froze.
He was there.
Sitting in the front row.