| Drakee | Дата: Пятница, Вчера, 21:47 | Сообщение # 1 | | Рядовой Группа: Пользователи Сообщений: 21 Статус: Offline | I am not good at dates. I am good at reading topographic maps, pitching tents in the rain, and fixing broken hiking boots with duct tape. But sitting across from a stranger in a nice shirt that I definitely ironed five minutes before leaving the house? That terrifies me.
Last night was different, though. I met Sofia at a small bistro downtown. It was raining, the kind of steady drizzle that usually makes me want to curl up with a book, but I had committed. I arrived ten minutes early, checked my breath in the reflection of a spoon, and waited.
When she walked in, she didn’t float like an angel or anything cliché like that. She walked in shaking a wet umbrella, looking a bit flustered, and tripping slightly on the doormat. I liked her immediately. It felt real.
We started with the usual awkward small talk. The weather, the traffic, the "how was your day" dance. I was worried. I’ve had dates where the silence stretches out like a flat desert road, painful and endless. I thought about checking my phone just to have something to do with my hands.
But then, something shifted. I mentioned a recent camping trip where the sky was so clear you could see the Milky Way without trying. Instead of nodding politely, she leaned in. She asked about the constellations. That led us down a rabbit hole I didn't expect.
We spent the next hour debating whether humanity should focus on Mars or fix Earth first. We talked about the terrifying size of the universe. It wasn't an intellectual contest; it was just a flow. A rhythm. I realized I wasn't nervous anymore. I was just listening.
It’s funny, because I usually stick to meeting people through friends. Expanding my circle felt like a chore. I actually only stumbled onto https://latidate.com/ a few weeks ago during a particularly long layover at an airport. I wanted to talk to someone who didn't know the same three hiking trails I did, someone with a different background. I wasn't looking for a miracle, just a conversation that felt new.
And sitting there with Sofia, that’s exactly what I got.
The conversation drifted from the existential dread of space to something much more critical: breakfast. We had a surprisingly heated argument about pancakes versus waffles. She is strictly Team Waffles because of the "syrup traps," while I argued that the texture of a good pancake is superior. We didn't solve the debate, but we laughed until the table next to us looked over.
There was a moment when I knocked my fork off the table. It clattered loudly. A year ago, I would have turned red and shut down. But she just handed me hers and signaled the waiter for another. It was a small thing, a tiny human flaw, but it made the air between us lighter.
We didn't end the night with grand declarations. There were no fireworks. Just a walk to her car in the drizzle and a promise to send her a picture of the next sunrise I catch on a trail.
I drove home feeling quiet and content. It wasn't magic. It was just a really good Tuesday. | | | | |
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