The restaurant was romantic, very romantic. But I never did use that as a descriptive term when asked how I like it. Somehow I am careful. I don't even dare to comment offhandedly and nonchalently, " It's the perfect place for dates and lovers' rendezvous" when it so obviously is. It has those tealights I adore; it is darkly lit; service non-obtrusive; and its music playlist reads: Because You Love Me, I'll Never Break Your Heart, What Can I do To Make You Love Me, Kiss From A Rose, Paint My Love, How Deep is Your Love, How Do I Live and so on.
It was an eerily romantic scene, one of those perfect movie moments in which one was expected to expect that something has to happen. And yes, I am a coward, I really don't dare to go so far. So, very silly-ly and consciously, I attempted to block out all notions of romance and its romantic equivalent. I refuse to use the word at all when it is the only apt one. I hope he wasn't deterred or let down too much by my stubbornness. I only din want to misread his intentions. Let me repeat: I am scared.
But this time round, a brief web search indicated that I am perhaps as someone once never failed to remind (accuse) me, of underreading and forever denying people the opportunity to "let me know" because I refuse to know, always downplaying significance of the gesture. Hey, I only happen to think enunciation plays a huge role in determining whether someone means it. I feel better if he says and does, at the same time.
But back to what the web search throws up: If you're planning a romantic candlelight dinner with your better half or want to enjoy a family gathering in a homely setting, the Mariner's Corner is highly recommended. So yeah, I guess it is meant to be romantic (apart from it being near my workplace and for my convenience) and I might have screwed up again, giving out all the wrong signals. Let me confess with all due contriteness in the privacy of my blog: yes, it is romantic and I am glad you brought me here with you, alone and I appreciate I am the first person you take to this very nice restaurant.
We were its first diners. He picked the restaurant as a surprise for me. Since God knows when, we fell naturally into the habit (but not quite falling in Love; that is the ultimate dirty word for perhaps both of us...*censored*) of he planning places and routes when I like to go out. He, withholding all information saved a temporary location for us to meet and I would just follow him, quite willingly and somewhat happy and ready for what he can offer. I would like to think the feeling is mutual. Okay, it probably is. I apologise for my underpresumptousness.
I like being with him. He makes me feel safe and gives me a nice, warm feeling. The whole dinner went off quite splendidly. So well that I began toying with the idea how to mildly destroy it by popping a question its answer I have been dying, dying to know. Within five seconds, I banished the crazy thought but I did ask in its place if he feels that so long as we were happy together, that's most important, and that the rest doesn't matter. He says that he thinks so too.
Within the next ten seconds, I then played seriously with telling him that I know of what transpired between him and another male friend who was concerned about both of us that horrid night in which two lousy guys were talking about me in midnight in my absence. And because it was that romantic, that something just has to happen, and it seemed the perfect moment to make it happen before the night ended, I began by telling him I was quite disturbed initially.
He: Was? So that's in the past, right? You are not disturbed now?
I: Yeah, unmolested by disturbances, for now. But they may return in future. You always say nothing is for certain.
He: *looks at me intently*
I: He told me of your conversation that night.
He: I know he would.
So what my dinner companion told my other friend about how he felt towards our relationship (let's just take as generic) when probed was said in full awareness he would tell me in return. In his words, it was "packaged for K." Which kinda cheers me up a little (even though I was already pleasantly heady and lightly intoxicated from the romantic aura of the restaurant) because what he told my friend, I was quite upset by the negativity in the long running course of our friendship.
I: "So what have you packaged for me then?"
Somehow, we then returned to how being happy together is most important. We agreed to remain status quo. Which, of course doesn't actually tell anyone anything new, except we now both know for sure, that we both know that we know. On hindsight, perhaps we should confirm what status quo means like all gd lit/philo and law students ought to, request for a definition to work with. But we left it as that. The only related other things that I asked were: Will status quo degenerate and will status quo improve, the former first. I got same answers like we wouldn't know for both.
Obviously, someone has to know and to take initiative to improve or to break away. "We wouldn't know" is so nebulous and if you are a pessimist, you might argue irresponsible. but status quo has got its own appeal. I only hope he din settle for status quo 'coz he thinks I want status quo but it's something he feels comfortable with and can progress from there. I want us both to be sure. I just so hate myself for seemingly to screw up and say less affectionate things than I really mean.
I gave him a physical memento even though he doesn't believe in giving gifts. I like him to have it and I give it freely because it is tangible. And at least I personally uphold strongly, the belief the gifts remind you of the giver, how much he/she once values you enough to think of and actually buying the gifts especially for you. Memories are wonderful things, dear, like tonight, that one keeps fondly and replays in the mind. But I'm so afraid to remember wrongly, no matter what you say. It's like the whole gesture and enunciation thing again. Actions are great but it's a good idea to accompany them with words. Gifts complement memories because they are forever to keep, in your hands literally. You were not hallucinating about the memory, you can convince yourself so when all the pleasuries of past seem distant and worse, faded to the point of make-believe. Did it really happen? Did I just write fiction? But like me grasping at fragments of words to articulate my emotions tonight, I leave a tangible track online to tell myself, all these did happen.
I: Thank you for a lovely night out. I'm fairly relieved we both approve status quo for now. We are quite happy together and that will do. Would you concur?
He: Indeed. That is so.
It was an eerily romantic scene, one of those perfect movie moments in which one was expected to expect that something has to happen. And yes, I am a coward, I really don't dare to go so far. So, very silly-ly and consciously, I attempted to block out all notions of romance and its romantic equivalent. I refuse to use the word at all when it is the only apt one. I hope he wasn't deterred or let down too much by my stubbornness. I only din want to misread his intentions. Let me repeat: I am scared.
But this time round, a brief web search indicated that I am perhaps as someone once never failed to remind (accuse) me, of underreading and forever denying people the opportunity to "let me know" because I refuse to know, always downplaying significance of the gesture. Hey, I only happen to think enunciation plays a huge role in determining whether someone means it. I feel better if he says and does, at the same time.
But back to what the web search throws up: If you're planning a romantic candlelight dinner with your better half or want to enjoy a family gathering in a homely setting, the Mariner's Corner is highly recommended. So yeah, I guess it is meant to be romantic (apart from it being near my workplace and for my convenience) and I might have screwed up again, giving out all the wrong signals. Let me confess with all due contriteness in the privacy of my blog: yes, it is romantic and I am glad you brought me here with you, alone and I appreciate I am the first person you take to this very nice restaurant.
We were its first diners. He picked the restaurant as a surprise for me. Since God knows when, we fell naturally into the habit (but not quite falling in Love; that is the ultimate dirty word for perhaps both of us...*censored*) of he planning places and routes when I like to go out. He, withholding all information saved a temporary location for us to meet and I would just follow him, quite willingly and somewhat happy and ready for what he can offer. I would like to think the feeling is mutual. Okay, it probably is. I apologise for my underpresumptousness.
I like being with him. He makes me feel safe and gives me a nice, warm feeling. The whole dinner went off quite splendidly. So well that I began toying with the idea how to mildly destroy it by popping a question its answer I have been dying, dying to know. Within five seconds, I banished the crazy thought but I did ask in its place if he feels that so long as we were happy together, that's most important, and that the rest doesn't matter. He says that he thinks so too.
Within the next ten seconds, I then played seriously with telling him that I know of what transpired between him and another male friend who was concerned about both of us that horrid night in which two lousy guys were talking about me in midnight in my absence. And because it was that romantic, that something just has to happen, and it seemed the perfect moment to make it happen before the night ended, I began by telling him I was quite disturbed initially.
He: Was? So that's in the past, right? You are not disturbed now?
I: Yeah, unmolested by disturbances, for now. But they may return in future. You always say nothing is for certain.
He: *looks at me intently*
I: He told me of your conversation that night.
He: I know he would.
So what my dinner companion told my other friend about how he felt towards our relationship (let's just take as generic) when probed was said in full awareness he would tell me in return. In his words, it was "packaged for K." Which kinda cheers me up a little (even though I was already pleasantly heady and lightly intoxicated from the romantic aura of the restaurant) because what he told my friend, I was quite upset by the negativity in the long running course of our friendship.
I: "So what have you packaged for me then?"
Somehow, we then returned to how being happy together is most important. We agreed to remain status quo. Which, of course doesn't actually tell anyone anything new, except we now both know for sure, that we both know that we know. On hindsight, perhaps we should confirm what status quo means like all gd lit/philo and law students ought to, request for a definition to work with. But we left it as that. The only related other things that I asked were: Will status quo degenerate and will status quo improve, the former first. I got same answers like we wouldn't know for both.
Obviously, someone has to know and to take initiative to improve or to break away. "We wouldn't know" is so nebulous and if you are a pessimist, you might argue irresponsible. but status quo has got its own appeal. I only hope he din settle for status quo 'coz he thinks I want status quo but it's something he feels comfortable with and can progress from there. I want us both to be sure. I just so hate myself for seemingly to screw up and say less affectionate things than I really mean.
I gave him a physical memento even though he doesn't believe in giving gifts. I like him to have it and I give it freely because it is tangible. And at least I personally uphold strongly, the belief the gifts remind you of the giver, how much he/she once values you enough to think of and actually buying the gifts especially for you. Memories are wonderful things, dear, like tonight, that one keeps fondly and replays in the mind. But I'm so afraid to remember wrongly, no matter what you say. It's like the whole gesture and enunciation thing again. Actions are great but it's a good idea to accompany them with words. Gifts complement memories because they are forever to keep, in your hands literally. You were not hallucinating about the memory, you can convince yourself so when all the pleasuries of past seem distant and worse, faded to the point of make-believe. Did it really happen? Did I just write fiction? But like me grasping at fragments of words to articulate my emotions tonight, I leave a tangible track online to tell myself, all these did happen.
I: Thank you for a lovely night out. I'm fairly relieved we both approve status quo for now. We are quite happy together and that will do. Would you concur?
He: Indeed. That is so.
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