Table Boy

A Story by DayDreamer97

Table Boy you are the best decision I've ever made in my life.

A table. A tall, silver, round table. That’s where it all started. That’s where I first laid eyes on him. He was tall and well built with shaggy blonde hair and piercing blue eyes. Handsome but not confident. He stood there alone and awkward. I noticed him because he look how I felt. I hated going out to parties and nights out, I only went to feel included. Looking at him I felt a connection. A kindred spirit.

I am by no means a confident person and on that night I was completely sober. I have no clue what gave me the idea to approach him or how I managed it but I did. I took a chance, I went for it. And it’s the best decision I’ve made in my life so far it would seem.

He looked up at me as I approached, startled like a deer in the headlights. I am not completely sure what my first words to him were, something along the lines of “friends left you all alone?” He smiles nervously and I swear he looks almost relieved. “Yeah,” he replies. That’s all I get but his voice is soft. I like it.

We talked for a few more moments before another strange and impossible thing happened. I asked him to dance. I cannot dance. At all. I have no idea why I did it or how but I did and he agreed despite being like me, an awful dancer. We laugh and smile at each other, ignoring the fact we are complete strangers. I’m actually having fun for once. I don’t even seem to mind I have just completely abandoned my best friend for this insane spurt of confidence I am showing. Who is this right now? I know it’s not me.

But things are going well and before I know it we are on a bench outside eating hot chips. He likes cheese so I bought him cheese. A weird thing to do for a stranger but I like this one. He seems kind. His smile is amazing. He talks and it’s like no one else matters. He is a student of psychology. Smart. His name is unique. At least in spelling. He makes me laugh, he makes me forget my shyness. I don’t feel as awkward sitting here with him as I do normally. I am in a state of shock at how this is happening and how it all came about but I am here and I am doing it and it fells amazing.

But sooner or later reality must always hit. And this one is a real blow. My friend who I left earlier to start this whole thing is drunk. Hopelessly drunk and he is stood right in front of us swaying. I don’t want to leave. I want to be selfish and stay with the handsome stranger but I can’t. I feel a pang of sadness because I know once I leave that will be it. I won’t see this handsome face again. But we swap numbers. A glimmer of hope remains as I say my goodbyes and leave him there on the bench. Mates before dates as they say but this one is a real pain in the a*s.

We text that very same night and I cannot keep myself from smiling. My face aches and my stomach becomes the new home of a dozen or so fluttering butterflies. He is all I can think about. His shaggy blonde hair, his piercing blue eyes, that amazing smile. He is something good. I know it. After so much bad, he is the good I have earned. At least I hope he is. We shall see.

A cold step. I was sat on a cold step shivering outside a Christian bookshop the next time we spoke. I have no idea why I messaged him I just wanted to feel something good. I wanted to smile and be happy. I wanted the warmth that he brought. My handsome stranger table boy.

We text and sure enough I am smiling again. I feel better. The tears are gone and the butterflies return. I am so nervous. Scared I’ll say the wrong thing and mess it all up as I so often seem to do but again it’s going well. I feel ok talking to him. He makes it ok.

I go home and the warmth of the house is noting compared to the warmth that talking to him again has brought on. An inner warmth that makes me glow. The following days people notice the change. I smile more, I laugh more. I feel better about things. I feel good. Something I have not felt for some time. I’m actually happy.

Time moves on and the stranger and I text. We become less than strangers and I feel hopeful about this good wonderful thing happening to me. It is my precious secret that I tell no one.

KFC. A late night trip to KFC. I do my hair and my make up and pick out a cute outfit that I can claim was just thrown on before heading out into the cold night. I see him and I am warm again. He makes me feel giddy with joy.

We eat our matching meals and we talk and we laugh and the space between us gets less and less. He is not a stranger anymore and neither am I. We are just content to be in each other’s company. I am drunk with happiness as we walk back towards my home as he insists on being a gentleman.

We stand in the doorway awkwardly. I want to kiss him so badly, I want him to kiss me. But no one does anything. We are both too nervous. Then it happens. An amusing twist in the story. We high five.

The door closes and I can’t help but want to kick myself. How could I have been dumb enough to suggest something so lame. But then I smile, because he agreed. We shall always have our first high five and to me that is amazing.

The texts continue.

We grow closer.

The story gets foggier here. I do not recall our next meeting, I recall several separate ones but I cannot be sure what order they happened in or when but the fact remains, we were now together. It had been another awkward moment, a discussion neither of us were sure how to have. There had been an awkward fist bump and a slightly too full on hug but we had kissed.

I was completely infatuated with this boy. This man? We are at a weird age where neither sounds right. This guy? That will do I suppose. I was infatuated with this guy. He was all I could think of and speak of. I wondered what he was doing, I wondered when I would see him again, when I would receive the next text message from him.

Time has passed and he still mine and I am still his. He makes me happier than words could ever express. But things have changed. We are not the carefree pair we once were. The world has gotten colder, harsher and it’s had an effect on us.

We argue. A lot. And each time I am terrified it will be the end of us. We hurt each other over and over and yet we keep telling ourselves that it is fine. That we will get through it.

I love him. I know he loves me in his own way. I don’t want to lose him but the tighter I hold on the more he pushes me away. I am scared to let go, but I love him. I want him to be happy. I would sacrifice everything for him. My happiness seems like nothing when in comparison with his. I love him. And that means I might need to let him go. The thought makes me paralysed with fear. I worry he will leave and never come back. I find it hard to trust that people love me enough to stay. I always seem to love harder than those around me. I love them more than they will ever love me and we both know it. The same goes for this. I love him. Probably more than he loves me. But I need to let him go and I need to trust that he will come back to me.

A heart is a magnificent thing. It breaks so often and yet we still survive. We as humans go through so much suffering and pain and we still go on. We keep fighting and struggling and battling on. We don’t give up despite wanting to. If he leaves it will break my heart. Probably worse than I have ever felt before. And it may take a very long time for me to be able to recover, I might never recover fully but I will recover. I need to believe that I will.

So all there is left to say is…

Table boy, you are the best decision I ever made and no matter what happens, I will be grateful for the blessing you have been.