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First date. by Rosanna
 

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  • It could be absolutely everything, and it could be terrible nothing.

    I don’t know which scares me more.

    I could walk away tomorrow with another little experience under my belt – someone I recall fleetingly when smiling at my husband and recounting tales of my interesting youth. I will have a little story to tell the girls at our next lunch – to chuckle about in neat, organised jokes, like “I wanted to ask him why I could see his chest hair over dinner” or “I could barely hold in my laughter while he listed his favourite cars in order of engine size.” I could come back, unchanged and unaffected; rustle to find my keys in my hand-bag and greet my home that is empty and enough all at once. I could chuck the laundry in the washer and think back on that one thing I said that might have sounded odd, but only for a second, and then check that there is enough washing powder in the compartment. The effect could be as subtle as a timid breeze amidst a great storm; enough to alter its immediate surroundings ever so slightly, but ultimately insignificant in the face of havoc wreaked.

    Or.

    There is a very small possibility that it is a gust of wind so strong that it knocks me to a place unfamiliar. That I walk away with giddy feeling of possibility, and the delightful burden that comes with receiving a delicate, special gift.

    What scares me the most is that if you asked me choose, I don’t know what I’d decide. Good thing it’s not up to me.
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