The Date

 Mark was trying his hardest, he really was. He took his meds every day like he was supposed to. He had gone to therapy, and he knew all about mindfulness and catastrophizing. Therapy was so hard, not that he expected it to be easy but every time he left his session, he felt drained and overwhelmed by all the memories that were dug up and laid bare. It made fresh all the old feelings of helplessness and shame.

It was over ten years ago, that toxic relationship that he had endured for so long. That he let last for too long. He was lonely and wanted to feel cared for and wanted. He was a mess. Who could possibly want to sign up for a relationship with a bundle of nerves that had shitty self-esteem.

Jeff was cute. They met through Gwen, an old friend from high school. She was his only friend from before; all the others he had cut ties with years ago. He and Jeff had met at a local steakhouse for dinner. Jeff was a perfect gentleman, even pulling the chair out for Mark. Mark blushed and kept himself from looking around to see who had noticed. Mark made sure to smile with a relaxed demeanor as he and Jeff talked, discreetly wiping his sweaty palms on the legs of his pants. He made sure to keep his breathing even. He tried his hardest to keep his thoughts in the present, trying to focus on what Jeff was saying.

“So, Gwen said that you worked from home?” Jeff asked. Mark squirmed under Jeff’s direct eye contact. Mark had learned not to look anyone in the eyes. Looking someone in the eyes was akin to challenging or flirting. Those were two things that his ex-boyfriend found to be intolerable. That intolerance always led to at least an hour of being berated and yelled at. Mark pretended to have a sudden interest in rearranging his fork and knife.

“Yeah. Well, I do some remote work from home. Uh, I guess the home part is implied by remote work. I do some free-lance writting, and some editing work when I can find it. It pays the bills.” That sounded like a good answer, right?

 Jeff smiled, “Cool. That sounds like it could be fun.” He smile was sincere and went to his eyes that crinkled in a sexy way.

“Yeah, sometimes.” Mark said. Jeff blinked a couple of times and realized that he wasn’t going to get any more of a reply from Mark.

“Have you been here before? This is my first time, but I heard that the steaks are good.”

“Yeah. I’ve been here with Gwen a couple of times.” Mark wet his lips and realized that he was parched. He reached for the glass of water and as he brought it to his lips his hand trembled, the water coming close to spilling before he could get it to his lips. He saw the moment Jeff’s eyes focused briefly on his trembling hand.

Mark was sure at that moment that Jeff probably thought that he was ill or psychotic, probably both. No, Jeff probably thought he was on the latest version of crack. Mark placed his glass back down on the table so quickly that some water splashed out onto the tablecloth. “Fuck!” Mark blurted. “Shit, sorry. Um, I’m a mess.” He tried to laugh it off but the sound that came out of him was closer to a hysterical titter. He might as well leave now and save Jeff the trouble of thinking of a reason to bail.

Jeff just smiled, “Meh, it happens.” The rest of the meal was awkward and wooden. Jeff had asked Mark if he wanted to go to the coffee house down the street, but Mark had politely declined. He was on sensory overload and was over-stimulated from being out on a busy night socializing. Mark was sure that Jeff noticed the sweat on his forehead.  They said good night and went their separate ways. Looking over his shoulder, Mark thought he saw a flicker of something in Jeff’s eyes. Was it pity or disgust?

Back at home Mark ruminated on the evening until he felt his chest tighten and his breathing became shallow. He tried not to be even more pathetic by feeling sorry for himself, but the loneliness and despair ate away at him until he grabbed a pillow off the couch and sobbed into it. He fell asleep there on the couch despite the tightness in his chest, and the pinching at the base of his skull where his muscles were tight from stress. He was going to have a hell of a headache.

The following morning Mark woke up to a stiff neck and back. He got up and took a couple of ibuprofens along with his usual morning meds. He grabbed a couple of granola bars, a jar of peanut butter and a diet Pepsi, his go-to breakfast. He took them back to the couch where he ate them while reading his latest romance novel. This one had werewolves.

There was a knock on his front door. He looked at the time and realized that three hours had passed since he had started reading. He wasn’t expecting anyone.

Mark opened the door and blinked at the bright light of the clear afternoon sky. There at the door was a kid holding a bouquet of flowers. “Mark Sommers?” The kid asked.

“Yes, that’s me.” Mark’s eyebrows came together in confusion.

“I have a delivery for you.” The kid thrust out the arrangement to Mark.

“Oh. Well, um, thanks.” Mark took the flowers and shut the door hoping that he wasn’t supposed to tip the kid. There was a card that had been written on both sides in very neat and small handwriting. He read the card.

Mark,

I just wanted to thank you for going out with me last night. I really liked spending time with you and hope that you feel the same way.

Maybe we can meet up soon at a quiet coffee shop or somewhere else if you prefer. I think you’re cute and funny and I really want to get to know you better.

-Jeff

A tear ran down Mark’s cheek. Only this time, it was from happiness and a little spark of hope.