The Wait Before Noon
I woke up earlier than usual today. My alarm didn’t even need to ring my brain did that job perfectly fine. It was one of those mornings where time moved fast and slow at the same time. Every five minutes felt like an hour, but the clock somehow jumped two hours ahead when I looked again.
I kept thinking today’s the day.
After almost a year of talking, texting, random midnight calls, small fights, and big silences… we were finally going to meet. In person.
It should’ve felt simple, right? Just two people meeting for lunch. But my heart refused to understand logic today. It was doing its own thing fast, loud, dramatic. I brushed it off and told myself, It’s just a meet, not a proposal. But who was I kidding?
I took a long shower, the kind where you overthink every possible scenario. What if it’s awkward? What if he doesn’t look the same? What if *I* don’t look like what he expects? What if I freeze? What if he doesn’t like the way I talk, or laugh, or exist?
And then the other side of me whispered *what if it’s perfect?*
By the time I got ready, I had a small pile of rejected outfits on the bed. I finally chose something safe simple, natural, the kind that doesn’t scream “I tried too hard” but secretly means “I really did.”
Hair - check.
Makeup - light.
Perfume - just enough.
Smile - practiced twice in the mirror.
He’s always chill. I’m the walking definition of chaos.
I kept staring at the clock. 12:45. My heart was already halfway to the restaurant. I was supposed to reach at 1:15. The plan was simple meet, talk, eat, act normal. But nothing about this felt normal.
The thought of *actually seeing him* in real life after a year of virtual everything that was terrifyingly exciting. Like meeting a character you built in your head for months and hoping reality doesn’t ruin it.
So, I sat for a few minutes before leaving, staring at my phone screen, scrolling through our old chats from the first “hey” to the first “good night.” I smiled at the way things changed. How strangers became comfort.
I took a deep breath. “It’s time,” I whispered. My hands were cold. My stomach felt weird. But my heart? It was ready or at least pretending to be.
I grabbed my bag, looked in the mirror one last time, and said to myself,
“Okay. Let’s do this.”
