Need review on this easy I wrote
I have a story to tell.
So Once upon a time.
“Beep”
Sorry one second.
“Your cab has arrived.”
Right.
I forgot to tell you, I have a date tonight and for which I’m getting late. Fourth date maybe. Fifth. Somewhere dangerous enough to start imagining futures but still early enough to pretend you’re “just seeing where things go.”
Which is modern dating language for: “I have already imagined us breaking up twice
And now I’m sitting inside the cab
The driver checks the mirror once.
Normal.
Twice?
Interesting.
Thrice?
Okay so now apparently I’m the main suspect in a psychological thriller.
Have you ever sat in a cab and suddenly become aware of your entire existence? Like the moment the door shuts, your brain starts behaving like it’s under investigation.
Okay I need to calm down, this is happening again, buy why? It’s just a date. Not a hostage exchange. Nobody’s dying. Nobody’s proposing.
And yet the universe had quietly dimmed the lights and whispered,
“Alright everyone, observe him carefully.”
Outside the window everything starts looking strangely cinematic.
Even traffic lights feel personal.
Red light:
“Sit with your thoughts.”
Green light:
“Run from them.”
Suddenly I’m remembering embarrassing things nobody else remembers.
A conversation from class 8. A joke that didn’t land.
The exact way someone once said, “Take care.”
Why does “take care” sound threatening in retrospect?
The cab slows near a traffic signal.
Outside, a little kid is pulling at his mother’s hand near a toy shop window.
Pointing at something excitedly.
Asking without fear.
At what age do we stop asking for things normally?
Because I remember there was a point in my childhood where I stopped asking before anyone could even say no.I used to rehearse conversations in my head and reject myself on behalf of everyone else. School trips. Video games. New shoes. It felt less painful that way.
Like if I closed the door myself, at least I wouldn’t hear the lock click from the other side.
“I’m on my way,” I texted.
And immediately my brain responded:
Too eager.
Too available.
Very desperate
Which is interesting because what exactly is wrong with sounding desperate? Isn’t dating just two people quietly trying to prove they care less than they actually do?
Now I just needed to wait for a reply.
Which honestly might be one of the most psychologically damaging modern activities
What if she doesn’t text back what if she has moved on. My head starts to take a toll and now I’m giving myself reasons to calm down
I told myself she was stuck in traffic or probably got caught in work. Then I told myself she was slowly realizing I was too intense and was currently sitting in an Uber wondering if she should turn around.
People suffer more in imagination than reality.
I know this because I practically live in mine. Someone says one small thing and my brain starts building entire futures around it.
During our second date she asked if I wanted sparkling water.
Sparkling water.
That’s it.
A completely normal question.
But my brain translated it into:
“She grew up rich.”
Which somehow became:
“She’ll eventually leave you for a man who probably drinks glacier water imported from Norway while my water purifier sounds like it’s fighting for its life every evening.
I laughed at myself after that thought.
She once caught me staring at a watch store after dinner.
“You look at expensive things the way people look at old lovers,” she laughed.
I laughed too.
But expensive things made sense to me.
Watches. Cars. Shoes.
At least they tell you exactly what they cost upfront.
People don’t.
When I was a kid my father used to stop outside fancy hotels and say things like,
“One day.” He said it the way religious people say heaven. I think that’s when it started. This quiet belief that maybe money could solve the humiliation of wanting things too badly.
Not just objects. People too. Especially people.
By our third date I had already imagined introducing her to my friends. By the fourth I had imagined accidentally meeting her parents and pretending to be calmer than I actually was.
The funny thing is she never promised me anything. That was all me. She would just say normal things. “I like talking to you.”
And I would hear wedding music in the background. She would touch my arm while laughing and suddenly I’d start mentally naming our future dog(Fun fact I’m scared of dogs) anyways Love in your twenties is honestly just unpaid fantasy labor (I should start a podcast)
I check my phone again. She’s typing. Stops typing. Typing again. My brain immediately opens eighteen tabs. Maybe she’s cancelling. Maybe she met someone calmer. Maybe she realized I speak like a man who learned emotional intimacy from a podcasts.
The message finally comes.
“Sorryyyy.
Oh God
“Running Late”
Thank God
I hate when people text one word at a time. Now a healthy person reads that and continues living normally. I read it and immediately started preparing emotionally for abandonment. The smiley face helped though. Or maybe it made it worse. Hard to tell with me.
I think that’s my actual problem. I have never lived in the present tense. Only in prediction. I remember when I was a kid, I was a Magician. The final school bell would ring and I’d disappear. Leave before anyone could ask, “Are you coming with us?”
No after-school plans.
No birthday dinners.
No awkward moment where someone realizes you probably can’t afford to stay.
So I became great at leaving early .Professional level. Irish goodbye before I even knew what Ireland was. That’s the strange thing about fear as a child. It doesn’t make you dramatic.It makes you efficient. You learn to reject yourself before the world gets the chance to do it slower.
And suddenly it hit me.
Every conversation.
Every date.
Every “almost-relationship”
Always one step away mentally. Always preparing the exit speech before the story even starts. Like if I closed the door myself, at least I wouldn’t hear the lock click from the other side.
And maybe that’s what I still do now. Just emotionally. Always preparing for loss before anything even has the chance to stay.
My brain treats every happy situation like a fire drill. Always preparing evacuation routes.
If someone says “we should talk”:
Instant Death
If someone says “haha sure”:
passive aggression.
Every overthinker wants honesty until honesty takes five minutes to reply.
The driver just braked suddenly and now I’m imagining my own death before a fourth date which honestly would be very on-brand for me.
“Sorry sir, aa gaye”
You can always tell how someone grew up by what they apologize for.
Anyway.
I should go.
The cab driver just looked at me through the mirror, I think he’s scared, well in his defence It’s not every day you find someone who is talking to themselves. And also because if I keep writing this email I might accidentally realize something about myself. Which would honestly ruin the date before it even begins.
And yes the story I completely forgot about, but now I’m running out of time, so Shantanu will tell you the story.