Sudden subtlety

I'm not subtle. I'm the opposite. I'm the blunt one. I say what I mean, or I don't say anything. I act. I react. I do not hide. Sometimes, though, subtelty creeps in on me. Something I experience isn't the bold, brash, boisterous announcement as it usually is. Tonight, subtlety found it's way into my mind, my heart.

Today was a day for realizations. Nothing romantic was involved though. Those realizations were of money and the mundane. They were choices I had to make and decisions I had to carry through with.
When all was said and done, I was tired from the sheer weight of my own responsibility.

Then, work. Work was inspiring tonight. It was full of motivation and inspiration. It made me remember the things I love about this job and, in light of the rest of my day, also reminded me that my wishes of full-time were far away.

Then the restaurant. Then her. Then the conversation and the food and the lemonade. Then the honesty. Then the subtlety. I didn't see it coming. I told her the intriguing part of my meeting her. I told her that it hadn't happened that way this time. It hadn't. This time is different.

Why talk about it? No, it doesn't solve the problem. Talking about it, stating it, makes it real. Sometimes, those things in our minds, in our hearts especially, don't seem real. It makes us think we can deal with them a certain way or push them further from ourselves or deeper down beneath the floorboards of our consiousness. But they are real, and they need to be spoken, to help them exist, so that we can deal with them, learn from them.

Suddenly I felt subtlety. I don't recall why, or even the exact moment. I remember a realization forming slowly in the back of my mind. Something I hadn't expected. No, that's not true. Something I hadn't wanted to expect. But she talked, and she tried to hide behind her wall. She tried to hit the emergency off switch. She didn't succeed. She talked and was honest, with me, with herself. She was uncomfortable and she continued. Her eyes welled up more than once, small tears hovering there, peering over the edge into the eternity below.

I wished so many things all at once, I know somewhere, a star cried out in frustration " You can't have all those things at once!". But I wished. I wished I could help her. I wished I could help myself. I wished for the restaurant to be open later. I wished and wished.

We left, and she thanked me. How ironic. She thanked me for listening, for seeing that part of her. I should have been the one. I should have thanked her for being so amazing. I should have thanked her for helping me remember myself. I should have thanked her for all the decisions she made that lead her to meeting me. Instead i smiled and hugged her and shivered as I got in the car. It was cold, but my shiver wasn't because of the temperature. I shivered at reality. And my subtlety giggled in the back of my mind.