Every time you close your eyes
Three months ago, I made a huge move from San Francisco to New York. Unfortunately, in that time I’ve experienced a few really awful dates (perhaps proof of the Dating Apocalypse?). That being said, I recently stumbled across a short piece I wrote in my private journal last year after a particularly amazing first date with a guy I had met…on Tinder.
Even though things didn’t work out between us in the end, I’m now posting this publicly as a reminder to myself — and anyone who’s also single and feeling completely jaded about romance in the digital age— that it is possible to have that initial spark that we all crave. And even if it’s just a brief moment, it can still be cherished.
The first date. The one that holds the most weight, determining the next course of action. Generally an exchange of surface-level pleasantries, with some “fun” activity (or, more often than not, plenty of alcohol) used to cover up the inevitable awkward moments. But this one was so different from all of the others. So natural, not forced. The songs that we came of age to in the early 2000s served as the soundtrack to a conversation without the usual barriers; one that was beautiful in its vulnerability.
As Arcade Fire pumped through the barely-filled club (“every time you close your eyes/lies/lies!)”, we both let the oh-so-familiar melody take over our souls. Eyes closed, jumping around, feeling it course through every limb, singing along without caring what people thought of us.
In that moment, it was our own private dance party, and we reigned supreme on the dance floor. Riding high on the excitement of something so new, so beautiful, and yet so eerily and inexplicably familiar.