Coffee dates

“Ok, I’m ready. We can do this.” I whisper to myself in the mirror after reapplying my mascara, I take a few steps back to examine my whole outfit in the full-length standing mirror in the corner of my living room. A pile of clothes on my bed and a few mental breakdowns later I decided on a black bodycon maxi skirt, white cropped tank top, my favourite black oversized denim jacket, and go-to white sneakers. Mental note: I need to buy new sneakers. Another white pair or maybe black Converse… we’ll see.

I look appropriate for a casual first date I guess. I do another spin and adjust my skirt at the back obsessing over small things like am I wearing the right bra with this top.

Stop it. You look fine. We can do this. We are ready.

I keep repeating this in my head whenever I feel like I'm going to spiral and chicken out of this whole thing. My head is not a good place to be right now.

I pull my braids into a loose bun on the top of my head. My phone vibrates on the coffee table with a new incoming message and I'm filled with nerves again. I take a deep breath and check it. It’s him.

Hi, I’ll pick you up in twenty minutes.

I stare at the text and smile because, despite all the nerves and anxiety, I always like hearing from him, talking to him, and thinking about him. There’s always that part of me that gets excited at the thought of me and him becoming something.

I was sitting at my usual table next to the large windows at the library doing some research for my assignment one afternoon when a tall, good-looking stranger stood in front of me with a hand resting on the chair opposite me. With a laptop bag hanging on his shoulder and a coffee cup in the other hand.

“Hi, do you mind if I sit here?” I blinked and looked around. There were a few empty tables around the library and it was quiet with only a handful of people around. 

“Um..yeah sure… I guess you can sit here if you want.” I had a few books and papers on the table along with my open laptop that I was working on. He pulled out the chair and sat as I was clearing my stuff from the other side of the table so he could put down his things. I was a little annoyed that he chose to sit here when there were other spots to choose from. I didn’t appreciate being disturbed while I was deep in research work.

“Thanks. Sorry, I know you must be wondering why I'm invading your space when there are plenty of tables to choose from. Well, I like this one, I like looking out of this window and just watching the people going by plus it’s directly opposite my favourite coffee shop right there.”  he pointed outside the window to the shop. He turned his attention back to me with an apologetic smile. I guess I could tolerate his presence for a few minutes. He can’t be that bad if he likes the same spot as me.

“No It’s fine, I don't mind. I’m almost done here anyway.” I said and smiled back at him then I went back to my typing.

“Here, you can have this as a peace offering.” he pushed his large coffee cup to my side of the table and opened up his laptop. I just stared at it. “Please take it. I already had two cups of coffee today. I'm afraid I won’t be able to sleep tonight if I drink this one too.”

“Thank you.” I picked up the cup and brought it to my nose. The coffee smelled so good I couldn't resist. I took a sip.

“It’s a cappuccino, double shot.”

“My one weakness then. Thanks again, God knows I need it.” I glanced up at him and he was staring at me with hazel-green eyes that made me strangely nervous. I went back to my research of the greatest playwrights. I’d been trying to find one to write about in my assignment for two hours now.  

“What are you working on anyway?” Mr distractive stranger asked, his eyes still on me.

“Assignment for my class.” he picked one of the books I had on the table and examined it with a raised brow.

“A play?” he asked.

“I’m researching famous playwrights, I need to write about one.”

“Ok. Do you need any help? I'm really good at researching. I mean I google everything I can think of. Just tell me what to search for.” I looked at him puzzled at how he just offered to help me with my assignment when he just met me five minutes ago.

“What. why?” I finally asked.

“Because I have time and I like helping beautiful strangers with their schoolwork” He smirked as he started typing on his laptop not even looking at me. He called me beautiful. What?

I just continued to stare at him dumbfounded. He had short black curly hair and dark thick brows knitted together in concentration. Sharp jawline and broad shoulders and those eyes.

Oh my God, focus.

“I found a South African one you might be interested in.” he turned his laptop to show me the Google search. “I’m Brandon by the way”

“Oh my God you brilliant stranger, this is so good. Thank you.” I said excitedly, scrolling down the pages.

“It’s Brandon” he chuckled. 

“Yeah, yeah ok Brandon nice to meet you. You are literally an angel sent from heaven”

“And you are?” he asked hazel green eyes pinned on me.  

“Yolanda”

“Well, Yolanda you can thank me by going out for coffee with me tomorrow or whenever you’re free from the shackles of literature.” That made me smile but I felt something weird in my chest as my heart started beating fast.

“Um... I don’t… I’m really busy these days with work and classes. I don't think I…” I was speechless. I don't get asked out much because my default answer is always no. and I’m always alone and busy in public places, guys are probably scared to approach me if they are even interested. 

“It’s fine you don’t have to say yes today.”

Brandon kept showing up at the library on random days and sat across from me with a cup of coffee and sometimes accompanied by a muffin or scone. We would do our work and chat, sometimes sitting in silence only sneaking glances at each other. He would ask me out and I’d come up with an excuse not to. He would walk me halfway to my apartment on days we left the library a little late. Hanging out with him kept me out of my head and made me less anxious. It was a welcome break until I finally caved and said yes to a coffee date. 

I saw Dr. Petersen earlier that morning and told him about my date in our weekly therapy sessions. He asked me how I was feeling about the whole thing and I told him I was nervous and anxious and slightly nauseous. The usual feelings whenever I was going to do something out of my comfort zone. He has been encouraging me to try and get myself out there and face my fears for the past year since I started seeing him. I have so many fears I don’t know which one I should conquer first. Intimacy, vulnerability, social interaction.

“I’m glad you are making progress Yolanda, it's really good. ” he said as he leaned back in his chair, eyeing me carefully. “Tell me about this guy, Brandon you said his name was. What’s he like?” I shifted in my seat trying to think of something to say.

“Well, he is very funny and kind and really sweet in a very nauseating way sometimes” I let out a nervous laugh and he just stares at me all serious and formal. 

“He’s been a really good friend to me these past few weeks. Um.. very patient with me and just nice.” I continued.

“How do you feel when you are with him, just describe the feelings to me as simply as you can.”

“I feel… comfortable. I feel at ease sometimes like… I don’t have to worry or overthink about what to say or do next.”

“Okay…” he nodded and continued. “Have you talked to your father since the last time you saw him?” wow! Where did that bomb come from?

I shifted again as my palms started to feel sweaty. I took a deep breath and let it out. He knows I don’t like talking about him and he hadn’t brought him up in a while.

“No. I have not spoken to him since then.” I said as calmly as I could. 

My father and I have a rocky relationship if we can even call it that. I blamed him for my mother’s death since he was the one who broke her beyond repair until she overdosed on pills and alcohol. He was physically abusive to her for years when he was drunk and sometimes when sober too. She was so in love with him though, she never left him even when I begged her countless times. Well, he left her when he got sober and “worked on himself” but she was never the same after that, she got depressed and started taking lots of meds and I had to take care of her until well…

I last spoke to him over a year ago when he just showed up at my aunt’s house for her birthday dinner when I specifically said I didn’t want him there if I was also invited, said he couldn’t miss his sister's fiftieth birthday when he was so comfortable with missing my birthdays when I was young or he would just show up late and drunk and ruin everything.

He cornered me in the kitchen trying to apologize for God knows what because the list of his transgressions was endless and frankly I didn’t want to hear his stupid apologies. I was so angry and triggered by the whole thing that I had a full-blown panic attack and couldn’t breathe until his sister asked him to leave. 

The more I waited the more I got anxious about my date with Brandon. I wasn’t ready to change the dynamic of our new friendship into something more as much as I wanted to.

You’re fine. We can do this. My mantra that I kept repeating as I paced back and forth in my tiny living room. You can do this. We can do this.

I keep trying to convince the stubbornness in my head but I'm losing the battle. She really is gonna ruin this for me again. Ugh!

Dr. Petersen's words from previous sessions keep playing in my head

“Learn to embrace change and adapt.”

“Vulnerability means losing control.”

 I don’t like being vulnerable and I certainly don’t like losing control. It's one of the main reasons I don’t drink.

Dammit!

I texted Brandon back

Hi, I’m so sorry something came up at work. Can we reschedule? sorry again for the late notice.

I feel horrible. I anxiously waited for his reply as my stomach turned to knots.

Please don’t give up on me.

I jumped at the vibration in my hands.

All good. Next time then.

I can feel the disappointment in his text but at least there’s hope for next time. Relief filled my lungs as I let out a huge sigh, apparently, I’d been holding my breath this whole time waiting for his text. I really thought I was ready for this. I hope I don’t die alone in this apartment.