vacanze romane.

you look like rob lowe but italian. you're definitely older than me, somewhere in the 19-25 range (26, tops. i have no idea how italian men age.) and you were unexpectedly nice when my brother and i sat our touristy selves down at the restaurant where you waiter.

so you can imagine my surprise when you asked me out the second time i saw you.

we had passed by the restaurant on our way back to the convent and my uncle decided it would be a good idea to pick up some wine. my brother and i stood outside waiting when i noticed you lingering near the doorway. out of the corner of my eye i could feel you nervously watching me but i feigned ignorance. when you suddenly walked back inside, my brother bent closer and whispered "i think he was waiting to talk to you." eyes wide and full of disbelief, i wandered indoors to see what was taking my aunt and uncle so long. i nervously looked around the crowded store, a pantry packed with pasta. then i see you come down the elevator, changed out of a work outfit and into more comfortable clothing. you catch my eye and we say "how are you?" at the same time.

giggle.

"I'm good."

"What did you do today?"

but my answer was unimportant, merely the bridge you needed to get to your next, more important question: "What are you doing tonight?"

"oh, out to dinner with my family-"

"so you are here with your family? ah. is there any way you could get out of it?"

"well-maybe"

"i have to work tonight, tomorrow night?"

"i'm leaving tomorrow morning"

and so words were passed back and forth, eaten and swallowed and pushed back up until no agreement was reached because i was off to some villa and then pisa and never to see you again.

i wanted to say yes for the sheer thrill of it but practicalities got in the way: you were working that night and i was leaving the next day. and then there was the fact that i hardly knew you and was not sure of your name (had i learned it the other day? who knew?) as we said our goodbyes and i walked away, a feeling and an innate knowledge came to my attention. the idea of going out with this guy frightened me. in fact, the idea of going out with anyone made me feel like i had spent a few too many moments underwater. what?! why was i so suddenly afraid of men? why did the idea of marriage make me want to run for the hills?