The second intern was a referral from a close friend.
We got to know each other because of our prominence in the school for our connections, acquaintances at most. I knew that this particular intern wanted to date me probably because of the perception that I belonged to that circle. Little did one see, I remained down here because I chose not to mingle with the ones above. Simplicity and staying minimalist in all its forms was a virtue I valued in this life.
It took me about a month of convincing to actually give out my number and agree to a dinner date. We had many similarities in life. Both of us came from the same broken families, the same schools and the same place where we grew up. There were too many familiar things that connected us together. The high connections in the profession were the most prominent resemblance between us, a child and a grandchild.
We started off getting surprised with how our backgrounds simply wove together as one. We talked about our past that simply jived together. Our childhood selves probably met already but only in adulthood did our souls encountered each other. But when it was actually time to meet, I realised our differences. Coming from a well-off background, I lost a bit of confidence in myself. The amount of alcohol we could actually take were proofs apart. I was more of a quiet calm type while the other was more of a loud and wild type. The hobbies we had were quite tangential from each other. As we met eye-to-eye, reality sank in. The once thought of a possible intimacy between us became the distance that kept us apart.
The food we shared was my choice. Some tapas, paella and a little bit of wine on the side. A few of the real similarities we had, the choice of cuisine. The truth sank in when we consciously knew our disparities. Our values didn’t jive together. As we were about to end, I was brought home. The reality that our circles never really met was actually much of a concern.
We had a connection, to be honest. Although we learned our differences, the similarities were still apparent. I was willing to give it a try but after which, I learned that it just wasn’t enough. A connection that came from the other end was also cut by the same. I consented to myself getting hurt again by another person who seemed to like me more than I did in return.
Sharing life stories was actually the reason for this connection. It was the hope that one day, love will actually be able to fill a hole for the emptiness that our loved ones were unable to fill.
The second intern.