Expectations

(short story. comments welcome.)

He sat there, staring into nothingness.

All that had happened was nothing less than 'life-altering' for him.

He had met her at the café. Introduced to him by a friend, she had a similar day-job in the nearby office. He had smiled at her in the past, and they had exchanged greetings, but never took another serious look at each other.

One day they happened to share the same table, and conversations took off. Was it just a one-off instance? They started meeting more often at the same table. The waitress now used to place their order even before they could be comfortable in their chairs. She would carry a pink-colored post-it notes diary along with her. She would scribble, draw randomly on it, and sometimes write appreciation for waitress along with the check.

Their personalities were different, and different to such an extent that it was inevitable they got interested in each other.

She had been through years of good and bad relationships. She joked about the number of boys in her life - nobody but she knew the actual number. She exuded confidence in what she had learned from mistakes in her life, and knew the kind of person she was.

He hadn't had a single romantic relationship in his life, except for countless crushes and 'interests'. For him it was a work-home routine for several years, and he just waited for that 'someone' to meet him someday. Slightly introvert, slightly extrovert, silent, talkative - he himself didn't know who the real 'him' was.

He was book-smart. She was street-smart.
As theory goes, both kind of 'smarts' need each other in the world.

As time moved on, their conversations grew mature - into arguments and debates. They both loved it. No topic on earth was untouched, and they both were good at dissecting every controversy doing rounds in news.

One day, he dared it for the first time in his life. He brought her a rose, got down on his knees (ignoring the ten café workers looking at him without a blink), and asked for her acceptance to their new relationship. She smiled. They both had won each other.

It had taken him some time to think about it. She was a 'been-there-done-that' when it came to relationships. He was a romance novice. What would he do? What was the right way to start a relationship with this wonderful lady? She had hinted about her night-adventures with boys in the past. Wouldn't she expect him to be aggressively good in romance and in bed? He had been thinking about it for a couple of days. What sort of 'boyfriend' should he be?

He decided to rise up to the 'challenge'. He would show her he was not a 'nice boy sissy'. He would match up to her expectations from her boyfriend.

The next evening, they walked past his house. He lived alone. No proximity to a close friend was probably one of the reasons he sometimes felt so emotionally empty. Was this one of the reasons why he grew so fond of her chatter so easily? He wouldn't think of all that. This was the evening to think of other possibilities.

He asked her if she wanted to hear him playing something on the guitar.
She smiled and nodded enthusiastically. They went inside, and he placed her comfortably on the bed while he sat there with his six-string on a chair. He played, and he played it well.

He also had something else on his mind this night. He moved closer to her, placing his head on her lap. She didn't object. He moved his fingers across her hair and pulled her towards him. They kissed. They had had it earlier, but this kiss was long. So long that she noticed his hands moving across her chest and trying to fondle with the flesh. She continued to kiss, and slowly pushed off his exploring hands.

"That's her way to tease", he thought. His hands tried again. This time, he felt a deep breath coming towards him. Then it stopped.

It was as if she was trying to stop time to think.

But he didn't have any time to waste; he had planned the evening. His hands continued to explore more of her body. She suddenly moved away. Startled, he looked at her. She looked directly into his eyes, trying to figure something out.

Then, she smiled.

Her arms were wide open. He somehow knew the signal. He stretched for the switch and turned out the lights.

He woke up early morning. He had enjoyed being close to her last night. She was the person he had been searching all along. It was not the physical satisfaction of intimacy, but the emotional connection he made with her. He wanted to tell her a lot more about things - everything. If there was one thing he wanted now, it was to be with her.

He looked, and she was not lying beside him. "Must have been to the washroom", he thought, while looking for his jeans by the bed side. Stuck to his jeans pocket he found a note.

A pink-colored post-it note.

It said, "Thought you would be different - someone I was looking for. Someone who would want the real me; someone who would care for much more than this body. I'm sorry, that didn't happen. I hope you match someone's expectations. All the best."

He sat there, staring into nothingness.