I’ll pick you up at the station, 12:18
We’ve been sending each other nervous selfies
I’ll have our playlist on in the car, and when we finally see each other
our song comes on.
The one that’s been spinning round our heads for weeks.
You’re in my car now and I can’t quite believe it,
and I don’t know what confidence possesses me
but I say “come here” and lean over the parking brake
and kiss you for the first time.
I don’t think it’s even been 30 seconds since setting eyes on you,
but already something feels like it’s clicking into place.
A huge sigh of relief.
Or coming up for air.
I’ll drive you to the lake,
and even though I’m a nervous driver
with you in the car I feel safe.
You’ll laugh at my terrible maneuvers,
and tell me I’m doing great
(even though we both know I bumped the curb).
We’ll walk around the lake,
hand in hand, like we’ve spent the last month dreaming of,
stopping to kiss each other on the forehead or the cheek
and to finally say “I love you” out loud.
We’ll get back in the car,
and you’ll laugh and cheer me on as I rap the entirety of perfect gentleman to you on the journey back
to my place
to my bedroom.
My landlady isn’t home.
And we’re finally alone.
No screens and earphones,
real life and in person
and neither of us can barely contain ourselves.
We’ll punctuate our kisses with muffled “I love you”s
we’ll tentatively edge closer to each other,
we’re both giddy-drunk, swimming through a teenage-dream-like haze of
clothes and then not clothes
lips frantically covering every inch of skin possible
making up for lost time
until we’re both spent
but still wanting more.
And still wanting more is how we have to leave it,
as I drive you to the station at 6pm,
as we reluctantly kiss goodbye one more time, just one more time…
and that, that was the first date ♥