I’ve admired many women at first sight, but never have I loved them in that moment. I believed that love at first sight was something that only happened in the movies and romance novels. That is, until a Friday in May.
Every Friday I would meet up with friends who worked in the surrounding office buildings for lunch. We would typically rotate between four different restaurants. But on this particular Friday, I had a report due at 3’oclock and I was only two-thirds of the way done with it. So, I told them to go on to lunch without me.
Due to my stress, induced by my typical method of procrastination, I wasn’t very hungry. I did, however, need more coffee.
I clocked out of work, grabbed the laptop off my desk, and walked to the closest coffee shop on the corner of 3rd St. and E. Broad St. The city was bustling, but the shop was less crowded than it normally would be. The upcoming Monday was Memorial Day, and many people would call off work on Friday to make their holiday weekend even longer.
The Sun streamed brightly through the storefront window as I placed my order. I sat down at a table near a small, wooden stage in the corner of the room. Local musicians frequented that stage on the weekends, but sometimes, people felt inclined to entertain the lunchtime rush. I continued with my work assignment as a man played his acoustic guitar. The airy chords echoed through the shop as I sipped my coffee between paragraphs.
I was too engrossed in my work to notice when the man stopped playing and stepped off stage. Nor did I notice that a woman quietly took his place until she began to sing. I stopped typing and started listening. I couldn’t see her face from where I sat and fought the urge to turn for a better look. I stopped wondering and went back to finishing what I came alone to do.
After a short set, the angelic voice stopped singing. I slowly shifted in my seat to catch a glimpse of her walking away as a couple patrons applauded her. Before she passed through a set of double doors in the back of the room, I saw that she had blonde hair and was wearing an azure-blue dress with white polka dots. I was somewhat disappointed that I might never know who she was, but time was passing and my deadline quickly approached.
I skimmed through my then-finished report and felt it was good enough. I pushed back in my seat to get up and leave when a familiar voice said to me,
“I can grab that mug from you if you’re done with it.” I looked to my right to see a blonde-haired woman wearing an apron with the coffee shop’s logo emblazoned on it over a polka-dotted azure-blue dress. I must have looked as shocked as I felt because she gave me a strange expression back. I snapped out of it, though not quickly enough to save myself from embarrassment, and said with a smile,
“Yes, I’m done with it. Thank you.” She smiled back, picked up the ceramic mug from the table, and started to walk away when I blurted out, “How long have you been singing if you don’t mind me asking?” She stopped on her heels.
“For nearly my whole life, I suppose,” she replied blushing. Her name was Hannah. She grew up singing in her church’s choir. She took choir class her freshman year of High School too but didn’t continue the year after because she grew bored with singing show tunes.
Now, at twenty-four years old, Hannah had been working in that coffee shop for a little over a year. She explained how she had witnessed several people take the stage and sing to strangers. She noticed that they would have a sense of fulfillment beaming from their faces every time. She yearned for that feeling, and slowly she built up the courage to try singing on stage herself. She finally gave it a shot for the first time about a month ago. She had done it once a week since and planned to continue.
My phone alarm rang out, interrupting our talk. It was time for me to walk back to work. I said it was nice meeting her and that I would come back next week to hear her sing again. She smiled, again blushing, and said she would be looking forward to it.
As I walked back to the office, I had a peculiarly good feeling. At first, I thought it was the rush from the caffeine. Then I thought it might have been the relief from finishing my report. Thinking on it further though, the report wasn’t necessarily a make or break for my career, so I didn’t have that much pressure from it to have that kind of relief. I decided it was probably just the excitement of the long weekend ahead.
The weekend came and went, and a bit of that peculiarly good feeling still lingered on in me. I noticed I would involuntarily think of Hannah, or hear the songs she sang in my head ever since Friday.
The obvious signs as to what that feeling was were there all along. However, they didn’t match what I naively learned from the entertainment I consumed, so I didn’t immediately understand what had happened to me. Sometimes it takes time for the mind to catch up to the heart.
When I met Hannah, I didn’t see fireworks going off in the shape of a heart like in the movies, and I didn’t get weak in the knees like I’ve read in books. My heart might have been beating uncontrollably, but I was too caught up in what she was saying to notice if it were.
I read Candide once but ignored its final message. I left my garden alone altogether. Yet, the echoes of Hannah’s melodies tilled the soil of my heart; directly confronting what I deliberately ignored. Something was planted in that hidden place the moment I peered into her all-knowing eyes that were green like Spring. Our conversation, though it was short-lived, nourished that imperceptible seed. After our goodbye, our separation made my heart grow fonder. The hours passed me by as the warmth of that fondness caused the seed to sprout into a tree.
Right before I laid down to sleep that night, the tree had grown tall enough to reach my mind, and its branches had spread widely throughout all the rest of my soul. The fruits of epiphany ripened and fell from its vine when my head hit the pillow, and I finally realized that for the first time in my life, I had found love at first sight.
// This is the first chapter of my book: Of Love & Loss: A Collection of Short Stories which you can purchase right now on Amazon. //
Beautiful story.