The Day We Met - Creative Writing Throwback

After seeing this video show up on my wall a dozen or so times, I finally watched it. It's funny, watching Look Up is exactly what you are not supposed to do. But it puts life into perspective. And also reminded me of a short story I wrote back in 2012 but never shared. Our writing prompt was to write in the opposite gender. Eeek. I hate sharing my non blog/craft writing. But, it is time to start stepping out of my comfort zone! 

Look Up - Gary Turk

The Day We Met

Creative Writing

March 14, 2012

On the day we met, Mother Nature cast a gray sheet over Emerald City. Around me, the world buzzed as I sat quietly alone at a table for two. I can’t tell you what I was working on or which espresso concoction I sipped. But what I do know is that the moment you entered the room, all I could focus on were the soft curls that framed your delicate face.

I don’t know what came over me that day. All I knew is that I had to ask you your name. Normally, a shy and reluctant man, I gathered every ounce of courage I could find to approach you, stumbling over my words to introduce myself. Somehow, I managed to walk away with not only your name, but seven numbers neatly written across a tiny sheet of paper. On the day we met, I knew you were the one I was destined to spend eternity with.

Two days later, after running lines over and over again in my head, I managed to pick up the phone. After three rings, the most beautiful voice seemed to sing the word hello. Every phrase I had memorized vanished from my mind, but somehow, I heard you tell me to pick you up on Friday at six.

Seeing you again made my heart stop. And when you suggested walking to dinner instead of taking a cab, I fell for you even more. Never had I met a woman who enjoyed the simple things in life, like taking an evening stroll through the city. As we conversed at dinner, all I could focus on were your red lips, and how I had never wanted anything more than to press my lips to yours. And as I told you goodnight at your doorstep, we shared a kiss that put every romantic movie to shame. As I watched you walk away, I knew I would never kiss anyone else again.

With you now in my world, everything seemed clearer. The rain no longer seemed so dreary. Rather, I found myself imagining you, in your yellow coat and rain boots dancing in the rain. I imagined us sharing an umbrella. I imagined kissing you under the cold Seattle rain. I spent countless hours at work dreaming of your smile. All I could ever dream of was you.

Over the next few weeks, we shared secrets over strolls through the park, tables for two, and late night phone calls. And after a month or so of getting to know you deeper than I have known anyone else, we got lost under a world of sheets. Never before had I been so in love.

Months passed and seasons changed. And after asking your father’s permission, I asked for your hand in marriage. As we shared breakfast and coffee at the same café where we met, I nervously pulled out a tiny Tiffany’s blue box from my pocket, got down onto one knee, and made a jumbled mess of the words, “Will you marry me?”

Six months later, I nervously stood at the altar. A hundred or so onlookers stared while I impatiently waited for the ceremony to begin. Finally, the music began and the most beautiful woman I had ever seen appeared from behind the church doors. As you walked down the aisle, all I could do was wonder what I had done to be so deserving of your love.

A few years passed and we got the news that you were expecting. Never had I been so happy. I was starting a family with the woman I loved. Nine months later, we welcomed a baby boy into the world. You were so beautiful; wearing nothing buy your hospital gown, curls tangled around your face, holding our son. Never before had I been so in love.

Three years later, we added two more children into this world, twin girls who had your eyes. As we brought them home for the first time, the most adorable smile stretched across your face. Finally, our family was whole. We were exactly where we were supposed to be.

Over the years, we explored the world with our children. With thousands of Kodak moments filling files on our computers, and our son finish up his last year of school, we sent the girls off to college. After twenty-two years, we were alone again. After a lifetime of raising children, we pretended to be newlyweds all over again. Never before had I been so in love.

But on the day we met, I never said hello. Instead, I let you walk way, never learning your name.