How often does it happen to you that your heart just skips a beat? That somebody gives you butterflies?
I’m gonna be honest, it doesn’t happen to me too often. That’s why I like it so much when it finally does. I mean, it’s nice, it really is, and sure, I could see a possible scenario where this mister would be mine. But mostly I don’t feel like it’s necessary to take the risk. Sometimes I like it better to just remember the nice moments so that I can relive those butterflies sometime else without having to ruin anything. Save it at its best, sorta.
I met the most charming waiter. He was tall and blond with a south European tan, looking as if he enjoyed sports, judging by the fit body of his. His cheek bones were tight and the muscles in his face created light lines by the corner of his mouth as he smiled. Everything were just perfectly constructed.
We connected as he managed to make me jump out of the chair (which litterarly is what happened). I can’t remember how my friend and I reached this subject, but all of a sudden we were talking about ghost stories. I had just finished telling her mine and was now fully concentrated at listening to hers. All of a sudden, a man’s voice appeared next to my ear and I jumped up high. Mister charming had accidently sneaked up behind me without my notice to ask us if everything was okay. Instead he happened to scare the shit out of me. It was really not his fault, though, he just picked the exact right moment!
The following times that he’d come to our table we were able to joke about it. – Joke about anything, actually! I’m sure he’s the same with all of his guests, but I couldn’t help feeling just a little bit special. He gave me butterflies, butterflies that lasted till we finally left the restaurant and all the way back home. Over again, it was nice.
And now, of course I dream away for a moment, thinking about how wonderful it would have been to get to see more of him, if he’d turn out to find me attractive too and we’d run away on a white horse or something. But no, he’ll be my secret waiter-crush, my mister charming. That way I can imagine him the way I like, without having to worry about him turning me down.
Actually, why is it that you always need to “do something about it”? Some days a piece of candy for the eye is all I’m asking for. And me, I like butterflies, so I might as well let them stay. He could be my secret waiter-crush, or he could be my prince. He could be anything I’d want him to be.
Though my mister charming he’ll stay, as long as I wish. And handsome. Yes, he sure was handsome… Yes. Just, yes. ♥️
Keep dreaming, Beautifuls,