He smiled at me as we sat, hunched over our coffees in the cafe, knees touching as we spoke quietly. He reached over as I was retelling a story and stroked my cheek affectionately. I paused in my story and smiled back at him.
“You are beautiful when you laugh. You know that?”
I glanced down at my coffee, smile on my lips, but at a loss of words to reply to his compliment. I felt his hand on my back as he made his way to the back of my chair.
His text to me the day before was a simple request for coffee. A request for a talk over a cup of cawfee – spoken in his mild accent from the Northeast. A quick negotiation of schedules, and we found a time.
Our coffees always go much the same. A quick catch-up about what is going on. A check-in on how the family is going – how work is going. And interspersed amid the small talk are little innuendos – small touches – a kiss – and stories of time past.
“I want to ask you something,” he started. “I don’t know how to go about this – it’s been too long since I’ve even wanted to do this,” he explained. “I, uhm, well….” and he paused as he tried to sort ouf the words.
I touched his hand and smiled. “Just be out with it – I appreciate direct,” I reminded.
“I want you on my profile. We are friends – and playmates – and I want that connection on the profile. Would that be okay?” It was his turn, it seemed, to be bashful and a bit unsure.
It was sweet. I liked the way he addressed it.
“I don’t know why I’m so nervous about this….” he tried to explain.
I interrupted as he fumbled a bit, “People can be weird about this stuff. Some thinks people are too hasty in how they quickly they add relationships on profiles. And everyone has an opinion about it. I personally don’t care what they think. If it feels right between the people involved, I think it should be done. Add me, please.”
He smiled at me, kissed me, and squeezed my knee. “Thank you. It does feel right. Very right.”