you're in a car with a beautiful boy...

I'm standing in line waiting to order my Tazo Tea and can't help but overhear the young woman behind me recounting the details of last night's date:

"Now just imagine, you're in a car with a beautiful boy... (and this and this and this)."

"And you're trying not to be self conscious but I mean, you're in a car with a beautiful boy... (and that and that and that)."

"Then your phone starts ringing... while you're in a car with a beautiful boy... (and on and on and on)."

And as this phrase replays in my mind, I pick up my tea, sit down in a chair, and remember why it's so familiar:

"You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and he won’t tell you that he loves you, but he loves you. And you feel like you’ve done something terrible, like robbed a liquor store, or swallowed pills, or shoveled yourself a grave in the dirt, and you’re tired. You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and you’re trying not to tell him that you love him, and you’re trying to choke down the feeling, and you’re trembling, but he reaches over and he touches you, like a prayer for which no words exist, and you feel your heart taking root in your body, like you’ve discovered something you didn’t even have a name for."

-from You are Jeff by Richard Siken

In other news, I've officially been asked out on a date. A very real, grown up like date! And so it seems that this weekend I too will be a in a car with a beautiful boy...

(More to come!)