This will probably get buried because I'm not great at writing stories, and this is so god-damn long. Sorry for that 🙂

It’s the very beginning of the 80s and I just got home from University for winter break. I broke up with my SO over a year ago, had the worst sex in my life with the first girl I had a hint of feelings for, and was not looking for a relationship.

I had never experienced love before and was uncertain if it even existed. My focus was on achieving academic success, having worked tirelessly to attend a prestigious university and now striving to be accepted into a good graduate school. As a result, I believed that relationships were too time-consuming and did not anticipate falling in love. Who's got time for relationships, right?

So, my buddy and I were chilling during winter break, and he suggested we hit up one of those fancy movie theaters where you can dine while you watch the movie. After a bit of back and forth, I reluctantly agreed to see The Empire Strikes Back. At the time, I was still determining if I'd enjoy it.

Anyway, we get to the theater and holy shit, in the huge bar/lounge area, there's this super cute/handsome waitress. Like, way out of my league. I'm pretty awkward in social situations and have never really considered myself attractive, but apparently, my friends say I have "ugly duckling syndrome" going on. I was ugly in high school, but I guess I'm less shitty now.

As we walk past her, I make sure not to look up at her and quickly look away when she looks up. But when I think it's safe, I turn around to steal one last glance at her, and we make eye contact because we both did a double take at the same time. Whoops! (Later I find out she was checking out my ass. How charming.)

So, I make my way into the theater and we settle in for the previews. My pal is all up in my business, asking about my last quarter, but I'm too busy gushing about how smoking hot that girl is to give him a straight answer. I mean, there are only four people in the whole theater, so why not?

Suddenly, a waitress comes into the theater and takes the order of the other people. As she stands up, I realize it's the same girl was drooling over earlier. Oh shit. I wasn't even planning to order anything.

She comes over and squats down by my legs. Get a grip, man. "Hey, my name is...um, I didn't catch your name. What would you like?" I scramble to figure out what I want and eventually settle on some peanut M&M's. She brings them over and I desperately want to see her again, so I push the button and order a Kit Kat bar. And then I push it again and ask for two cups of water. All in all, I ended up spending $4 on overpriced candy. Not great, considering I still need to buy Christmas presents.

And now nature's calling, so I must take a leak. I get up and head out of the theater, and all of a sudden, I hear this voice behind me: "Can I help you?" Holy shit, she scared me!

I'm so caught off guard that all I can manage to say is, "Oh god. Sorry. You scared me." Smooth, right?

She laughs and asks how the movie is. I try to act cool and say, "It's good, it's good. Yeah..." but then there's an awkward silence. So, I blurt out the first thing that comes to mind: "You're wearing TWO sets of glasses!" Whaaaatt?

She looks confused for a second, but then she realizes what I'm talking about. "Oh yeah, this is so I can watch the Comin' At Ya movie in 3D. I love those movies."

"Me too! I really like 3D," I reply. We chat about 3D movies and a few other things for a while, but then the urge to pee becomes overwhelming.

"Alright, well it was nice meeting you!" I say, trying to escape as quickly as possible.

In the restroom, I resolve to pen my number on the bill or napkin. Whatever! She won't ring, though. How mortifying! But it's worth a try, isn't it? Precisely. You miss every opportunity you don't seize, or something like that. Now, I've lingered too long in the lavatory, praying I don't bump into her.

Rounding the bend back to my cinema hall, she's there, opening the door to distribute the checks. "Hello!" I greet with a wave.

"Uh, hi!" she stammers, perhaps anxiously?

Drawing nearer, I inquire, "Which one is mine? I'll grab it now."

"No, don't fret, I got it," she responds.

"Don't be absurd. I'll just carry it in.”

"No, seriously, I've got it."

I spot my bill, with another sheet of paper atop it, bearing some writing. A cautious grin forms on my face as I collect the receipts and read the message. Hey, I don't want to make you uncomfortable, but you're adorable, and you seem worth getting acquainted with. Perhaps call me at some point? 555-12345.

She's blushing, and I'm grinning from ear to ear. I confess, "No need to worry. I had the same thought." I jot my phone number on her copy, make an awkward remark about tipping being strange now, and leave a 30% tip — my mind isn't quite functioning. Then I dash back into the theater to update my friend.

We exchange texts for a while and agree on a café for our inaugural rendezvous. I'm not old enough for drinks, as I'm 20. Later, I discover that she's 24 and works at the theater in addition to her regular office job to earn some supplementary income.

The beginning of our first date was dreadful. We just sat there sipping tea, as neither of us actually liked coffee. Every now and then, interview-like questions were sprinkled amidst our sips, while the rest of the time was filled with uncomfortable silence.

"I'm terrible at this whole sitting and chatting thing. I'm clueless. I don't do this. I don't know how. Can we go for a walk?" She agrees, "Yeah, sure."

After walking three blocks, I realize that I need a break. Darn.

"Hey, I need to pause in that shadowy area. And I need you to face the other way and not ask any questions. Alright? I promise I won't harm or rob you. Just focus on that tree."

We repeat this process several times and walk back to my car, then wander around for miles, walking for five hours straight. It's freezing, but we don't mind. Eventually, after five hours, we do care and head back to the café for an hour to warm up. We converse about everything and even discover that we've watched the same TV shows. She's genuinely witty and intelligent. By now, it's 1 am, and the coffee shop is closing.

I escort her to the car, and we share a farewell hug. It's a bit awkward, but it doesn't feel right to kiss just yet.

On our subsequent dates, we stroll around my neighborhood for hours — six hours on the next date, then three. We simply talk and learn about each other. In the weeks that follow, his hot-and-cold demeanor drives me up the wall, frustrating me like never before. My friend questions whether I'm in love, but I dismiss the idea, claiming it's absurd since I've just met her. I wonder if I'm deceiving both him and myself but decide not to dwell on it.

We go on four more dates, eventually agreeing to stay in touch despite the 2,000-mile distance. Surprisingly, we do. We end up calling for six hours at a stretch, with time seeming to fly by. A few months later, she asks me to be her boyfriend.

We've been together for a few years. It may not be a long time for some, but I've never been in a committed relationship for more than six months before.

And yes, I loved her. Wholeheartedly.