I would say that the first date went triumphantly. It’s a personal record and I was jubilantly elated and elevated into another level of contentment. One of the few first dates that really meant something to me. It’s a personal favourite too.
However, I was still in haze about the feelings I harboured towards you. It’s like a potpourri of scents, one first sniff and you think it has the best whiff in the world yet it turns rotten and pungent that it goes straight to your head and leaves you feeling nauseous the next time you take another sniff. Was it love or was it just another fling we both were indulging. Whatever it was, one thing for certain was I had never felt this new sensation. I was catapulted to the seventh heaven.
Texting each other had been a serious inevitable and vital routine. Stories were shared and exchanged; sometimes it was more than just stories. We sure knew how to spice things up. And that part was the most intimately astounding. I was completely besotted and infatuated. The feeling was just outlandish.
We went out for a couple of casual dates, luncheons, and dinners. My friends started to have qualms about this mysterious friend I’ve been indulging and devoting my time with. If only they knew you were not merely a friend, you were beyond that. To their knowledge, I was hanging with a new friend I picked up during the workshop.
Little did they know how important you had slowly become in my life. It had struck a chord on me that I was utterly in love, falling head over heels over you. I could go berserk if I didn’t text you or hear any news about you. Knowing what you were doing, what colour was your shirt you were wearing, have you eaten, how you feeling today and all those trivial stuffs had been an obligatory routine that I couldn’t bear to miss. Those things metaphorically had been my daily drugs. You, on the other hand, were the medicine.
p.s. The feelings were just simply ineffable.