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I don't know the song but I love your storyDay 13: A song for the scene where they hold hands for the first time
The first date had been coffee. My idea – cliché, but safe. Classic for a reason. The usual conversations – work, growing up, family. There was chemistry, but cautious. But if felt good, clean. The second had been more open, over dinner, Dutch so that there was no complications. Freer conversation, and a little about personal history – exs – but nothing too complex. She was smart, funny, and we connected. It was…good, no, almost great. There was no question about a third date.
Third night. Dinner was good, but she seemed a little distracted. Distancing, I though, with a frisson of fear. After dinner, a walk in the evening warm. God, I thought, you are going to blow this before it even starts. You always do. She probably thinks you aren’t interested, or something. You are so fucking passive when you get scared of getting hurt. You always do this.
Sitting in the Uber, there is a tension in the air, a pressure. Not bad, not good, just…there. Expectation. She is just six inches away, I think. You are inches away and you are going to lose her if you don’t fucking move for once. Staring straight ahead, my heart is pounding in my chest, my ears, I start to slide my hand across the distance, over the bench seat. And before I have even moved an inch, hers is there, moving slowly as well. Our pinkies touch, then my hand is sliding over the smooth, soft skin of hers. She turns her hand over, and we are palm to palm before our fingers interlace. And I smile in the dark.
"I want to find
A piece of your mind
I want to see
Your make believe
I don't want to try so hard
I make it hard for you to breathe..."
"When to Begin," Bowling for Soup.
Great date story.Day 13: A song for the scene where they hold hands for the first time
The first date had been coffee. My idea – cliché, but safe. Classic for a reason. The usual conversations – work, growing up, family. There was chemistry, but cautious. But if felt good, clean. The second had been more open, over dinner, Dutch so that there was no complications. Freer conversation, and a little about personal history – exs – but nothing too complex. She was smart, funny, and we connected. It was…good, no, almost great. There was no question about a third date.
Third night. Dinner was good, but she seemed a little distracted. Distancing, I though, with a frisson of fear. After dinner, a walk in the evening warm. God, I think, you are going to blow this before it even starts. You always do. She probably thinks you aren’t interested, or something. You are so fucking passive when you get scared of getting hurt. You always do this.
Sitting in the Uber, there is a tension in the air, a pressure. Not bad, not good, just…there. Expectation. She is just six inches away, I think. You are inches away and you are going to lose her if you don’t fucking move for once. Staring straight ahead, my heart is pounding in my chest, my ears, I start to slide my hand across the distance, over the bench seat. And before I have even moved an inch, hers is there, moving slowly as well. Our pinkies touch, then my hand is sliding over the smooth, soft skin of hers. She turns her hand over, and we are palm to palm before our fingers interlace. And I smile in the dark.
"I want to find
A piece of your mind
I want to see
Your make believe
I don't want to try so hard
I make it hard for you to breathe..."
"Where to Begin," Bowling for Soup.
I love this song! Haven’t heard it in forever.Day 13: A song for the scene where they hold hands for the first time
Sexy new AV alert!Day 13: A song for the scene where they hold hands for the first time
Holding hands is more intimate to me than sex. You have more nerve endings on the tips of your fingers than anywhere else on your body.
In case you didn't know this... I love sappy, cheesy 80's love songs.
When I See You Smile - Bad English