One Small Step

Let me start out by saying that I didn't intend for this to be a blog all about men and my adventures in romance, but yes, I am writing about men again. It's my blog and I'll be a sappy romantic mess in it if I want to.

Now that that's out of the way...I found out Mandark's name.

I talked to him. I almost died. One would think I'm old enough to talk to someone of the opposite sex without turning into a nervous bundle of shy but clearly I haven't matured much on the inside. Here's a detailed breakdown of how it went:

I entered the classroom and saw him sitting in his usual empty row. I (somewhat) confidently sat in the seat directly next to him. This was a first for both of us. I usually give him one or two seats worth of space. I felt him tense up, but that may have been my imagination. My body realized I was actually going to start talking to him, so naturally it started trying to sabotage me by making my heart beat at an alarming rate. I had two pieces of coffee candy in my pocket. This was part of my plan. I unwrapped one and started eating it, and then finally got the nerve and offered one to him. "Do you like coffee?" He looked at me. I smiled. He looked at the candy. He said something along the lines of "Oh. No." and then looked back at the front of the classroom. That was my only plan and he'd rejected the candy! I plowed through. I had a goal and I was going to accomplish it. I innitiate smalltalk about the class. He gives me short answers that lead nowhere. He seems uncomfortable but he isn't ignoring me. This is progress.  Plus his voice...It's rough, but not mean. I think he's got a hint of a cold. I am in love with his voice. It's like warm brandy and honey. The words are starting to come out a little better, but my heart hasn't calmed down. We have a guest speaker. I ask if he's familiar with the man. He isn't. I'm not either. My small talk is running out fast. There's a moment of silence. I have to get it over with or I will never know.

  "My name's S by the way." He looks at me and his hand moves a bit in his jacket pocket. It shifts in a way that makes me feel like he's thinking about offering his hand for me to shake it, but then thinks better of it and decides not to. I don't offer my hand. Why don't I offer me hand!? I think I'm afraid that if we touch I'll lose it. I should have gone for it, but oh well, missed opportunities can be made up later. "I'm D."

D!

It's a normal, beautiful name! I did it! I did what I set out to do! But it seems like it's over. We don't exchange words after that. We sit in silence while the classroom buzzes around us. I don't know how to move forward. But I have to. "Do you like tea more?". He says nothing. He's thinking about it. He doesn't get that I'm referring back to the candy he rejected. I try again. I'm going to force this handsome man to talk even if it kills me. "Do you like tea more than coffee?" Still no answer. He's looking at me though. I can't tell what his facial expression is saying. It's over. He thinks I'm weird, or annoying, or obsessed with coffee and that I'm probably a girl to be avoided. "Or, maybe you don't really like candy."  There's a hint of something in my voice as I reach the end of the sentence. Is it defeat? "That's fine too." I start looking down, embarrassed that even though I made it this far, even though I took such a tremendous leap for me regardless of what a small act it was, it has ended so soon. Then a wonderful thing happens. Instead of giving an answer that doesn't lead anywhere, he begins to talk to me. He tells me his feelings on coffee. He's not good at brewing it. I start to tell him I usually don't drink it often but I like the flavor, and the instant we get going and I've reached a moment where things are picking up the Professor decides to start class. Isn't that how it always goes? We get cut off and spend the rest of the lesson being model students. He pays rapt attention. I take notes. I try to tell him 'Good evening' or 'See you next week' as it ends but it gets lost in everyone packing up. I feel let down. Then I realize that I know his name now. I can greet him next class. I can do this again! I did it once, and it's always easier after the first time, isn't it? Maybe I could give him my email on the last day if things go well the next few weeks!

Even if nothing happens, I'm happy that I spoke up. I'm happy that I didn't spend the whole semester not knowing Mandark's true name, always sitting a seat away from him and wondering. It's liberating to do things like this. It feels so brave. That sounds silly, but it does. The smallest steps can lead to some gigantic accomplishments.