I was nervous. Kit kept asking why. I couldn’t explain very well. The appearance of being alone? Not knowing what to expect of it? Not knowing how it would go over?
It would be my first actual date with Cernunnos, after all.
I was fidgeting. Procrastinating, He said quietly. Yes, I was. I get fidgety when I’m nervous, and stalling is a fidget.
Kit was picked up to go to a labyrinth walk. I left a few minutes later, headed to a nearby Irish restaurant and pub. Did it have to be Irish? No. But I hadn’t been in a long while, and it was the first thing that came to mind that really hit the spot.
I parked a little after 7:00. The patio was busy, but the dining room was quiet, and I asked for an inside table. A little one in the sun was perfect, and the quiet room would be good for my concentration, I thought.
Water. Ginger ale. A look at the menu. “What would You like me to have?” I asked.
No response. I could feel Him there, but He wasn’t answering. My nerves jangled more as the server, an energetic college girl, came back for my order.
Irish sausage rolls. Crab mac and cheese. The server brought out some baguette and olive bread, made locally.
As I slowly ate bread and sipped my ginger ale, I pulled out my journal, so far blank. It was a gift from a friend, too lovely to use for just anything, with heavy unlined pages and a tooled leather cover. I had decided to use it for O/our conversations, for the times when W/we needed a boost.
“I’m nervous,” I wrote into the silence, after dating the page and writing the details of dinner. “Distracted by the car a little. I worry that it’s a bigger problem. But all W/we can do is-”
The best W/we can.
I breathed a sigh of relief.
How is the bread?
I described it best I could – the tang of the baguette, the solid crispiness of the olive bread – and wrote, “Quieter than I thought.”
Just be with Me, He answered.
Taste for Me. Enjoy for Me.
I felt something finally relax in my chest, and I settled down to savor the food. There was a little chatter back and forth between U/us, things I didn’t write down, thing’s I don’t recall offhand. This wasn’t Work, this wasn’t service. This was a date. This was two beings who love each other spending time together. Words weren’t required; just quiet time, feeling Him there, eating slowly, taking the time to feel and taste the food, watching and hearing the people around me, feeling the sun and just noticing.
The server came back, offering dessert, and I succumbed to the bread pudding – because bread pudding beats frozen yogurt any day, I figured, and He agreed.
Finally I broke down a little. “I love You. I want to make this work,” I told Him. I was going to say more, but He stopped me.
I took a breath. “What do You need from me daily?” I asked.
Just listen. Love. This is not an experiment. This is an experience.
There is something so simple, so comforting in those words. I finished my dessert, paid, and drove home.
I curled up on the bed, just feeling Him, reading a book… and I fell fast asleep.