The First Date

The relationship between HK and myself has always been a funny one. Or perhaps frustrating is the better adjective. On our first official date some many years ago, we went to a nice restaurant – or at least what was nice to us way back when in High School Land. Back then, to qualify as “nice” all you needed was a hostess who sat you at a table. Oh how naïve people from High School Land were.

The plan was that we’d have a nice lunch – dinner was out of the question because I had a curfew – and then we’d go walk around the park. And how ridiculously giggly I was. What High School Land does to its inhabitants to become so crazy, no one will ever know. But after lunch we sat at the park and we talked about everything and nothing.

And then it happened.

He asks.

Almost as a proposal, “Will you be my girlfriend?”

What a trivial question this must be for people not living in High School Land! What a silly question. But to be official, to carry around those labels, one party must ask the other party this question.

“Will you be m girlfriend?” he asks. He is opening his heart to me. Expressing his feelings and putting them into words.

He followed the social customs and rites one would do in High School Land. Asked her out? Check. Meal? Check. Compliments? Physical contact? A touch of awkwardness? Check, check, and double check.

So what was my response to the question and to all of the well presented gestures?

I run.

I ran.

Where to though? He drove after all. No idea, but all I knew was that I wanted to avoid the pressure and the question. And so I chose flight.

Ok so I didn’t really run off. Just squirmed and avoided the question as best as possible. Which, in such a situation, is actually quite impossible. So I agreed. I liked him after all. It was sweet. And he would be my first. And so boyfriend and girlfriend we became.

Labels? Check.

Now for that First Kiss.