I was more nervous than I expected

I went on a date last night. There, that sounds much simpler written down than it felt while I was waiting outside the restaurant, pretending to read the menu. I was early. Of course I was early.

He arrived looking a little nervous too, which helped more than any wonderfully confident entrance could have. We spent the first few minutes being very polite. I could hear myself asking questions as though I was hosting something, and eventually I admitted that I was doing it. He laughed, and I finally relaxed.

There wasn’t a grand moment. We disagreed about a film, ordered another drink, and stayed after the plates had been cleared. I liked that he remembered something I’d said near the beginning. Not a compliment. Just a small detail that told me he had been listening.

On the way home, I started picking apart one thing I’d said. Then I caught myself. I’d enjoyed the evening. I didn’t need to turn it into an assessment before I’d even taken my shoes off.

This morning, he sent a message saying he’d had a good time. I replied without asking three people whether it was too soon. That felt like a small improvement on my usual approach.

— Isabella