I’ve been reflecting quite a bit on that night recently. You see, when we get caught up in doing things, sometimes our minds don’t allow us to notice the real happenings that surround us, and that is exactly where I found myself at the time, trapped in the chaos of my own mind. Well, it seems that everything that happened that evening was rather chaotic – but in the best way possible!

My night did not start in a spectacular way; it was a quiet evening, too quiet for that matter. It was actually really quiet. Too quiet. I just had this low, steady kind of nervousness that had been sitting in the pit of my stomach for a few days. You know that feeling where your heart isn’t exactly racing, but you just feel… heavy? Like you’re waiting for something but you’re not sure if it’s going to be good or bad? Yeah, that.

I had thought about asking him out so many times that it wasn’t even funny anymore. Honestly, I probably went through a hundred versions of what I would say before getting my teeth brushed or heading into work. Once I finally made it happen, everything was no longer natural or authentic. Instead, it became this prewritten, rewritten piece that I edited until there wasn’t any authenticity left. Anything I could think of always either seemed way too informal, like “Hey, whatever, if you’re bored,” or too extreme and intense.

When he finally did say yes, however, I don’t believe that I had much of a reaction. At least I was sure that I didn’t; I must have just nodded and mumbled something like ‘Cool.’ However, it stayed inside of me all the same, this thing that wasn’t joy but was there and persisted in occupying this tiny portion of my thoughts.

The day of the date itself, however, saw me tell myself not to think too much about it. Of course, that statement alone was my subconscious way of saying, “Oh no, here I go again thinking about every second of this thing!” While I was getting ready, I felt completely hopeless, changing things up multiple times before deciding on the perfect outfit. I thought about whether I looked like someone who was trying too hard, or worse, someone who hadn’t bothered to put any effort into the whole ordeal. Does this jacket make me seem like I am trying to act like something else? Are these shoes really matching the atmosphere of the date? And yet, I was trying to convince myself not to worry because it was just a dinner date after all, where two people get together and share some food. That was all.

Everything seemed fine when we actually met up. In fact, there really wasn’t anything “wrong.” He was respectful, and he may have been a tad bit careful, as if he was walking on eggshells. We sat down, went through our usual pleasantries and I thought, Oh, that’s good. We’ve started off nicely.

Then things didn’t quite pan out the way I thought they would.

The conversation… oh boy, it didn’t really flow. I’m not saying it was awkward. It’s not like we were bickering or keeping an icy silence between us. One minute he would respond to a question from me and after that nothing but silence. He wouldn’t continue the conversation or anything. He wouldn’t even say something like “and you, what do you think about it.” Just straight to the point and then dead silence again. And then it was me looking frantically in search of the next topic because I didn’t want to stay silent.

In the beginning, I tried to make an exception. I figured maybe he just needed some time to get warmed up. People aren’t always ready to speak at once, right? So I continued to bombard him with questions. I asked him about his work and what he did after getting out of the office, discussed random things like the music or unusual decorations of the place. Nothing helped to break this deadlock.

Pretty soon, those little intervals seemed too long for any reason other than the discomfort of being acutely conscious of their existence. Do you remember the last time five seconds felt like five minutes? That was when the real trouble began. Nothing had changed, except that I found myself thinking about the awkwardness I was experiencing. I was thinking about the silence, the way I was sitting, and the way the entire situation must have appeared to the diners at the nearby table. I found myself paying attention to things I normally wouldn’t notice—for instance, how loudly the couple two tables down from us was laughing and exactly how often the waiter passed by our table without stopping.

That’s when the “real” overthinking began.

Now, I really started to wonder whether I had done anything stupid by going ahead with my idea. Was he really interested in me? Or perhaps, he had simply agreed out of politeness and fear of offending me? All our past meetings came into question as well – maybe it was me who misunderstood his signals and invented the feeling between us?

All this did not make its way outside, of course. I am not that courageous to say such harsh things in his face. On the exterior, I tried to appear as calm and friendly as possible, nodded whenever he said something, smiled where appropriate and continued to pepper the conversation with questions whenever there was some awkward silence.

At one point, I guess I gave up. When it was time to order from the menu, I did not even bother flipping through the options anymore; rather, I ordered something I wanted—namely, a burger and fries. This decision became the most effortless choice I’ve made all night long.

Fortunately, when our food arrived, it helped. Having a distraction in the form of food to do while eating provided some sort of comfort in knowing that, despite everything else going wrong in our interaction, we still have some semblance of normalcy. I grabbed a fry absentmindedly without realizing what I was doing, trying to find some peace and stop the barrage of thoughts racing inside my head.

Then, he looked at my plate and asked, “Really?”

Not necessarily loud or aggressive, but definitely shocking to the point where I immediately imagined all the worst things. Okay, so now he judges the food I’m eating as well. Great.

However, when I actually took a look at him, his attitude towards me completely changed. He did not look judgmental; on the contrary, he looked like he was immensely relieved by something. He started to smile and actually burst out laughing. This laugh, however, was not a laughing-at-you one, rather more of a thank-god laugh.

“You know I’ve been hoping that you order that,” he said, “and I just didn’t know whether it’s appropriate for me to have the same dish.”

Needless to say, it took me quite some time to digest what had happened. It was absolutely not what I expected him to say, and the overall atmosphere on the table changed dramatically. The stress that had been weighing on my mind since Tuesday suddenly vanished.

He started explaining, awkwardly, which somehow made it funny—he was trying so hard and didn’t even realize how obvious it was, and it ended up looking kind of cute. Then he admitted he’d been really nervous the whole time, not knowing how to act or what I expected. He was so afraid of messing things up that he froze and kept his answers short, worried he’d say something stupid otherwise. Even when ordering, he avoided something like a burger because he didn’t want to seem careless.

I laughed while listening, because it all sounded so ridiculous out loud. And at the same time, I realized I had been feeling exactly the same way.

However, later on, the interaction became… well, real. Not perfect, not Hollywood, but natural. We discussed, interrupted, joked about how extremely uncomfortable the first part of the evening was. There were no more awkward silences like before – just silences. We were just two people eating burgers and being frank.

Reflecting on everything that happened, there was absolutely nothing new in the concrete reality – the same restaurant, the same food, the same people. It’s just that instead of guessing each other’s thoughts, we started to share them openly.

What almost ended up being a total disaster turned into something else entirely. Not because it became “ideal,” but because it became honest. In a weird way, I think it was actually better that it started off so poorly. It gave us something to break through. It made the connection feel earned rather than just handed to us. And yes, it was messy, it was slightly embarrassing, and it was completely human. And honestly? I wouldn’t change it.