Qathra

When I saw you in the café that day I went catatonic. I was there hoping to see you, of course, but I didn’t anticipate the physical reaction. My mouth went immediately dry, my hands started to shake. I was sitting at the bar by the creamers. After you got your coffee, you came over to make your concoction. You were standing so close I could have brushed against you, it wouldn’t have looked like anything more than an accident. My foot began tapping furiously, it had somehow developed its own brain and was operating independently of my desires. You noticed the tapping and glanced over. I turned sharply and pulled the brim of my hat down over my eyes. You didn’t realize it was me until you sat down at your table. This was before we had gotten into anything serious, before I had my peephole into your life.

I was there with Jess. We had some vague notion, conceptualized over wine on a previous evening, that I might try to start some banter with you but as soon as I saw you my body let me know that was completely out of the question. I moved from the counter and stood behind Jess, using her as a shield, while she waited for her name to be called. You recognized us by now, looked up and saw Jess studying you intently while I looked down at my shoes, disassociating. Jess wanted to sit but saw I was in no condition to do so. I did my best to walk casually, not run, out the door.

Versions of this scenario played out on multiple occasions over the course of the next year. My friend’s condo was across the street from the café. I could casually sit by the window and see you walk down the street, then suggest a coffee and head out. I did try the irl thing. I was just never able to make it work. Like that snowy day you met your friend to hear about her vacation. I was sitting in the back. You seated yourself at the table right next to me. The games had begun by this time, so when you looked over and realized it was me you got up and moved. I pretended I had some trash to throw away and walked to the front to see if you were still there. When I saw you with your friend, I got angry and made an audible grunt. I had done something similar before when I saw you at your job; you had asked me a necessary question and I answered angrily and refused to even look at you. You started to realize I only possessed the emotional regulation skills of a toddler.

It became clear to us both I was not going to be able to speak with you. How do you approach someone with hands that shake so badly you can’t even get your bike locked up because you keep dropping the lock? Yeah, I know you remember that day, after the date I sent you on… You were very angry. After this my brother started going to the café in my place. His tactics were more about intimidation than the hope for connection though.