captain of my soul

@captainofmysoul

Secret blog of a shy german film student, editor, colorist and cinephile.

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The second date.

We went for a really good sushi place. One of the best ones in town. It was so good, she actually still keeps going there to this day. Just, not with me.

This time she was early. We had an awkward reception, because she was sitting on the entry steps of some apartment building in an alleyway next to the sushi place. It was already dark and I wasn’t sure if it was actually her until I approached her. I sat down with her. Somehow that felt weird to me. I don’t really know why, thb. I guess I would usually rather stand and waiting, than sit down on the dirty floor of some street. Maybe this is just my arrogant privileged mind speaking. I would later notice that she did that a lot. She would rather sit on the floor than, say, on a public bench. Even if it was right next to her.
We went inside, she was surprised I had reserved a table. We drank an entire bottle of wine and started to get kinda drunk. Everything was perfect. We laughed at each other failing to eat with chopsticks. It just felt like we had already been friends for years. It felt right. I felt safe with her. This was again, different to every other date I ever had up to that point. We finished the sushi quite quickly, but stayed a lot, drinking, talking. I don’t really remember a lot of what we talked about, I just remember it as a great date.
After the sushi we went to look for a bar. She wanted me to try a White Russian, so we just started wandering though the town looking for a nice looking bar. It took us ages to find one that wasn’t completely packed. We ordered two Black Russians - that’s all they had and she started talking again. A lot. This time she opened up a lot more about her personal life, about her one year old child, how it wasn’t exactly planned, how the father had run away, about how traumatic the entire pregnancy and birth was. It seemed like for the first time she had found somebody to tell all of this too without receiving judgement. Actually, all she received from me was awe and respect. The more she talked, the more I was impressed by her endurance and ability to just keep going.
I don’t want to give away too many details. I don’t want her to be easily identifiable. Though, anybody how already knows her in person must have already recognised her at this point. This feels morally complicated btw. I don’t know how she would feel if she would know I’m writing this. There are many things she had told me over the course of the time we spent dating. Things I would never tell anybody. And I have told her personal things too, mine just tend to be. Less. Extreme. I’ll have to pay close attention about what to leave out in future blog posts.

Anyways. Human child birth in and of itself is already fucking crazy. But the shit that she had been through was completely insane. And still, she seemed so. Fine. I was so fascinated by her. God she was interesting! I remember walking her back to the train station, running with her tocatch the last train. I remember being drunk. I remember her being drunk. Both just the right amount. I remember being just happy. Just in the moment. She gave me a very long hug to say goodbye. It felt amazing. On my way home she texted me she wouldn’t have minded a kiss. I agreed.

To this day. Even after eight months of dating. We never kissed.


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