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I’m not a difficult girl to please, you know? I mean, I have my standards life any one should. I know what I want and I know what I deserve. No one can hold that against me, okay?
Just cause I know what I want doesn’t mean that I don’t deserve a good date. Or love, you know, that’s what I’m really trying ot do out here. Not my fault all these guys want to get into my pants on a first date. Not my fault that I just want to flirt with a guy and not have him ignore me when I say no. Also not my fault that it’s easier to find someone on the internet.
None of it is my fault, alright?
Won’t stop a guy form blaming me, of course. They always lame me. They just see a girl who wants a good time, not a girl who wants to find someone to love her. Just cause I enjoy dressing up a little and like a black dress, tights, and lipstick doesn’t mean I come cheap, damnit! I am worth more than a one night stand.
It’s hard to remember that sometimes, you know? I mean, when people just see me they may not see that. Just cause I enjoy dressing up doesn’t mean that I’m degrading myself. I just enjoy what I have to show. Not my fault that people misunderstand that.
It isn’t my fault.
Can’t stop trying, though. Just gotta suck it up and try again. If I stop putting myself out there, then what am I gonna do? Grit my teeth and swallow those lonely nights? God, no, I can’t stand that. At least a screen can count for something, but god forbid I actually try to meet any of those people in real life. I don’t want to judge or assume, okay? Can’t fault me for being nice. Don’t fault me for giving people the benefit of the doubt.
Oh, the woes of being lonely.
The last date I went on, that really sucked. It was fun for a bit. He really was good looking, at least. He was flirty, obviously, but that didn’t have to mean anything. He was nice. It was nice. I just wanted it to be nice.
He wasn’t nice.
He just wanted to use me. Why do so many people want to just use me? Aren’t I worth more to people than just a quick fling? I know I am, but why can’t others see that?
How do I make other people see that?
Doesn’t really matter, I guess, theres always gonna be another one. If I let them take me down then I’ll never get anything done. I’ll just be stuck with the screen and losing the small part of my life I’ve got.
Just one life. That’s all we’ve got. So there’s only so much screen time I can swallow before I’m reminded that my life is slipping through my fingers with every click.
I just want my own little slice of heaven, you know?
Maybe it is, but it shouldn't be. I know it shouldn’t be. I’ve just been doubting myself a lot since the last guy. Things didn’t go well after we went back to his car. I’d hoped that things would work out. I wanted so badly for them to despite all the alarm bells that were screaming in my head, but of course that fell apart just like all the others.
I just want to get back to doing things again. I want to get back to feeling secure in myself and that I can find someone to spend my life with. So I’m trying again.
I mean, obviously I am. I’m sitting in that same diner I met the lasts guy in. I didn’t want to meet here but I wanted to make things as easy on her as possible, or easy on myself. It’s not really easy, I mean. I guess it can be just cause it’s close to where I live, but I can feel my leg jittering just beneath the table while I wait for my date to show up.
At least she seems nice. She was nice online and all that. They always seem nice online, though. They say what they need to so we can meet up and they see how far they can go. It’s always the same. This stupid fucking cycle that I can’t get out of my head.
Maybe I’m just overthinking it all, but it’s getting annoying.
Liv seems genuinely nice, though. I wonder if that’s actually her name. If it’s a nickname it might be one for Olivia or Olive or something like that. Her user handle was a lot funnier. Just a simple “mothmanlover99” to pull together the whole profile. It was a good way to get a conversation going, at least. Even if it is a silly handle. The only reason she used a 9 was because the 69 was already taken. She’s got her priorities relatively straight, I guess.
She didn’t ask about my handle at least. Not much to explain about “bisexual_goth” at the end of the day. Explains itself better than I ever could, even if she only knows me by my nickname. Violet is a pretty good stand in for a name-name in this kind of situation, especially since I don’t know how close I’m going to get with this girl.
I glance over at a clock on the wall and notice that it’s about five minutes passed the time we agreed on. I know it’s not the safest place in the world, god do I know, but I hope if she was uncomfortable with this spot she’d have told me.
My leg starts to beat faster as every possibility of what could have happened to her because of my stupid idea pop up. Or, better yet, if she’d just decided to out right ditch me. Surprisingly I’ve never had that happen to me before, but theres a first time for everything to be sure.
She’d been so excited just a few hours before, though. I’d hope she’d have just been honest with me if she couldn’t make it. If she was nervous I’d get that. I’m obviously nervous with how fast my legs are moving. I look over at the waitress wandering around and I wonder if she can hear the table moving along with my feet. I hope I’m not getting on her nerves. If I am I hope she’d tell me. I wish more people would just be honest with me.
God, how am I already overthinking this? I haven’t even seen her in person yet and I’m already spiraling. Is it cause I’m back in the diner? I already avoided it for so long I can’t keep avoiding it. I used to love it here until my last date. But I shouldn’t let that hold me back. I can’t let some stupid fears get in the way of living. I just want to live. Why can’t I just get over myself and start–
“Sorry, are you Violet?”
I snap out of starting at the waitress and turn my head to the right. I feel my chest tighten at the sight of her. Photos didn’t do justice just how fucking pretty she is. Oh my god, she’s genuinely gorgeous. What the fuck is she doing here with someone like me?
Her hair is just like in the photos. This bright shock of pink makes up the bulk of this mullet she’s got going on while towards the front it starts to turn into a darker shade of pink. Shes’s got this nice little black flower toward the top of her head that’s a good contrast for the rest of the colors going on with her outfits. Lots of reds, yellows, and blues as she’s wearing this nice strawberry patterned shirt that matches with her strawberry earrings. Her eye shadow is also a light shade of blue that practically matches the shirt she’s got on top of her t-shirt.
TLDR, she’s got her look down.
I knew she had a lot of good looks going into it. I mean the photos she sent certainly set a standard but I hadn’t considered that for a first date she’d come here looking so good. I mean, I tried too. I’m just not used to people putting in that much effort into these things.
“Oh, uh, yeah, sorry, I am.” I stand up slightly in the booth and reach my hand across the table to shake her hand.
I’m awkward.
Why am I so awkward?
How am I messing this up already?
I take her hand and give it a light shake before recoiling back. “Sorry.”
I expect her to have some kind of look of dissatisfaction or disappointment on her face, but she’s just smiling. She practically beaming at me as she sits down across from me. I feel my knees get weak under me from just how much light is coming off of her, I don’t know how else to response to it.
“No, you’re so good. People barely remember to do that these day, you know?”
I nod my head white my eyes dart around the room. I feel like I’ve already killed something even she is smiling at me. Maybe she won’t notice. Just cause I can feel it in my gut doesn’t mean that it’s gonna be obvious to her. If I’m lucky it’ll be fine. I’m not lucky enough for that, though. I’m never lucky enough.
“Are you okay though?”
I flinch back into reality with a nervous laugh as I start to fidget with my fingers. “Yeah, yeah, sorry, I’ve just been getting stuck in my head a lot these days.”
I flash her a nervous smile while her own somehow widens more. She’s still got so much energy going on up there. I don’t get where it’s coming from.
“God, I know how that feels. Sometimes it feels like the safest place you can be is up here.”
She taps her head as she speaks and I find myself actually laughing at that. It’s not a nervous one, but an actual laugh. She’s funny too or many I’m just being nice. But I did it on impulse without even thinking about it, so that had to count for something.
I’m really being charmed by her. That’s it. That’s what’s happening here, isn’t it?
There isn’t anything in her eyes that makes me think I’m in danger. I don’t see any malintent and I’m well acquainted what that kind of look would look like.
“Yeah, exactly, as long as you stay away from those dark corners in there.”
“Oh don’t get me started on those things. Their so dank and dark back there. No one should have to see what’s lurking back there.”
“Besides maybe a therapist.”
She laughs this time with her grin never wavering for a second. If it didn’t fit her so well I think it’d become disturbing by now, but it suits her energy so well that it just makes sense it would be there.
“Oh god, of course, they get all that mess thrown onto them.”
“They’re lucky if they’re able to understand any of it.”
She snaps her fingers at me, “Yes, yes, for real! God, there’s only so much you can disturb them before you start skirting some kind of line. And I do not want to find out what happens if you over step that line.”
“Well, there’s no line here. We’re trying to learn about each other here, right?”
Her eyes widen a little and I think I’ve fucked up again before she leans in close, still smiling, and whispers, “Of course, but let’s start eating before we vivsect each other in public.”
I snort while she leans back against her own seat. That beautiful damn smile shifting into more a cheeky smirk while she glances over her shoulder at our waitress.
I’m smiling after that joke she made, but then the nervousness starts to gnaw away at me again. My stomach contorts itself back up again when I say, “Right, yeah, sorry, we can go ahead and do that then.”
I’m getting all twisted up here. It wasn’t this hard last time. Things felt so easy when I was just flighting with that dick head. Maybe it’s all his fault. Things were just fine. I just want them to be fine again.
I won’t lie, I’ve been kinda paranoid since then. I didn’t message him after he kicked me out of his truck, and punched me in the face, but that doesn't’ mean that he’s not still around here.
Realistically I know he is but I can’t waste my life worrying about that anymore. I just gotta suck it up and deal with it. Still, there’s always that possibility. That’s what gets me really. At any moment he could just pop back up and I’ll be helpless to do anything.
“Hey, come on, don’t be nervous. I’m just playing with you.” Liv says, her eye lids lower slightly and she puts on hand on top of mine. “It’s really okay. You don’t need to look so worried.”
Her thumb runs against the top of my hand and I look down at my hand and watch as she squeezes just enough for me to feel the pressure.
Yeah, okay, maybe this’ll be alright.
This feels alright.
She clearly cares more than anyone else I’ve gone out with does. Even though I’m basically a nobody to her she’s still got this level of concern that I can barley comprehend. Just cause we’ve talked on a dating app doesn’t mean she knows me. We just established that fact. She knows she shouldn’t care but she still–
“Violet.” Her hand tightens on top of mine, “You’re shaking. Are you sure you’re alright?”
Shit.
“Ah, um, yeah, no, it’s fine, I’m fine. I promise, Liv, just head stuff, you know?”
I try to pull my hand away from her’s but she doesn’t let me. I strain against the weight of her hand but she keeps me in place. My muscles tense up as she does it, but I can’t find it in me to let out more than a surprised squeak.
Her eyes look around the diner, the edge of her eyebrow twitches a little, before they come back to me.
“Let’s get out of here.”
I force myself to swallow some of my own spit as I find that my throat had closed up, “What?”
“Let’s leave, Violet. I know this cute little book store that’s open late not too far from here.”
I blink at her as words leave me high and dry. Her hand stays on top of mine, though, and I carefully reach my other hand out until it’s on top of her’s. It feels nice. When I really think about it, it’s been so long since I’ve held another person’s hand. Just the skin to skin contact is enough to send electric shocks through my body. It’s just so nice.
“Okay, let’s go then.”
I feel her squeeze my hand even tighter while another soft, sweet, smile appears on her face. It’d wavered briefly as she’d worried about me but now it’s back. She springs out from the booth and starts dragging me behind her.
I stumble after her while I watch as she weaves her way from street ot alley and back to street again. There’s an overwhelming energy to the way she moves. Her pace races from startlingly quick to considerate when other people pop up. She’s excited but not too excited to ignore her fellow man. Still, though, she’s excited to show me something. Excited to do something with me.
We arrive at the book store about thirty minutes before close. She apologizes to the employees for the intrusion, but they just smile and laugh. They clearly know her already and enjoy her company, which is better than be expected before close.
The warm lighting of the store, contrasted by the fluorescent dim lights on the street outside, makes he practically glow next to me. She already lit up the room in the diner, but here she’s practically shining under the light. She holds the attention of the whole room as she talks to the employees and even the store owner. There’s nothing fake about her. She’s just here being herself and I’m a million miles away watching her do her thing.
She’s still holding my hand as she starts leading me toward the back of the store. Her eyes fixed on a something that I can’t pinpoint but she clearly knows where she’s going.
“Do you read? Or, do you have any favorite books? I know we didn’t really talk about it at all online, but you seem like you’d enjoy fantasy. I feel Violet is such a fantastical–”
I cut in, “Wilma.”
A complicated kind of guilt had been eating away at me every time I heard her call me Violet. It’s a nickname. A nickname for the digital world that I rarely here in person and I don’t know if I want her to stick with. It helps keep up some airs online, but now it’s intersecting with reality.
She stops moving to turn around and look at me, “Hm?”
“Violet on an old nickname my friends gave me.” I awkwardly fidget with my hair, “I’ve always liked the color and I’ve had it dyed like this, well, for awhile. But I want you to know my actual name. I don’t mind if you prefer Violet, but I still want you to know that Wilma’s my actual name.”
She tilts her head at me as though there were some processing unit inside of her head considering what I’d just said, but eventually she just smiles again.
“Wilma, that’s just as pretty. Even more unique than Violet too!”
I feel my cheeks start to get hot as I let out an awkward laugh and a small, “Thank you.” I’d never had someone say my name was beautiful before. It was nice.
“Well, Miss Wilma, would you please allow me, a lowly book lover, to recommend some literature to you?”
I swear my face must be as pink her hair as I watch her bend a knee down and offer he hand out to me. She’d just been holding it a second before but had let go of it just so that she could she could do this.
So dramatic, but so fun.
There is no second intent in her eyes as she looks up at me with such an eager smile. Her hand stays extended with such eager passion I can practically feel it sparking off of her. She’s got so much to share, and she really wants to do it.
So I take it, again.
Our hands lock together as I smile back at her, my cheeks probably neon pink by now, as I say, “Lowly? Never! Why, Miss Liv, I do say that you are my most trusted advisor. Speak your mind, my dear, for I shall take it all to heart!”
I help her up this time and once again let her lead me forward. Now it’s clear that she’s leading me toward the fantasy section, but it doesn’t really matter anymore.
She’s given me more than I ever could have expected and I’m ready to take the shot that’s provided. Finally, I’ve found my good start.
