Mind Racing

I can't sleep... can he?

Why didn't I put on something less I-just-got-off-the-bus-from-New-York? Me in Toms, carting around an obnoxiously bright pink duffel bag; him pulling off his polka-dotted tie. Granted, he had had his first day of work, and I was coming from the aforementioned bus but... should I have made a more conscious effort? (Was this a date?)

Did I talk too much? Laugh too loudly? At times my enthusiasm can be too in your face... did he remark it as such? What does one talk about on these things anyway? (Was this a date?)

Was it ok that I paid? I was the one that offered to take him out for a celebratory first day drink... when he put down his credit card to split the bill, was he trying to give me a signal? Why then did he graciously accept my gesture? (Was this a date?)

Did I really vaguely salute him as a goodbye on the metro? Why didn't I go for the hug? The kiss on the cheek? The kiss? Why didn't he? Our giant hello hug lingered. (Was this a date?)

He is in my city. And so it begins.