A Night To Live For
Beyond my ambitious, driven, and workaholic nature that most people see, it’s only half of who I am. Deep down, I’m a hopeless romantic. I write poems, mainly about love, though I never publish them. I enjoy romcoms once in a while, I love artistic paintings that depict love, and I idiotically believe there’s someone for everyone.
Every man’s first love is his mom, and I was no different. My second brush with love was with a girl in school. I fell head over heels for her, and in some way or another, I credit her for shaping the man I am today. Throughout my early and late childhood, I wanted to be worthy of her. Sadly, not all stories have happy endings.
But I have this fantasy of an evening I want to spend with “the one.”
It’s late November, and the weather has that perfect chill. I live in Hoboken, and after a long week, it’s finally Friday evening. I come home from work, the weight of the week lifting off my shoulders. I shower, letting the warmth wash away the fatigue, and get ready. A crisp white shirt, blue chinos, dress shoes, and a navy blazer. I look at myself in the mirror and smile, feeling a sense of anticipation. I wait for her to get ready in her favorite dress, the one that makes her eyes sparkle.
We’ll call an Uber to the Hoboken PATH station, our excitement building with each passing moment. We board the train to the WTC, our hands intertwined, the city lights reflecting in our eyes.
I’ve reserved a cozy table for two at The Capital Grille. It’s my favorite place, with oysters that melt in your mouth and a salmon entrée that tastes like heaven. The ambiance is warm and inviting, with soft lighting and the gentle hum of conversation around us. I’ll order the oysters and salmon; she can choose whatever she likes. I don’t drink, but tonight might be an exception. So wine it is.
As we wait for our food, I’ll pull out a piece of paper and make my favorite origami, a delicate Lily, and share a poem I wrote just for her. Because why not? It’s a little piece of my heart, folded neatly into words and shapes. Her eyes will light up with surprise and delight, and my heart will swell with joy.
We’ll talk about anything and everything. We’ll laugh about silly things, share stories from our past, and dream about the future. Mostly, I’ll just listen. Because I want to. Not because I have to or anyone is forcing me. I simply want to. There’s nothing I’d rather do than listen to her voice, her thoughts, her laughter. It’s the sweetest melody I’ve ever heard.
Time will fly, and before we know it, the restaurant will be closing. We’ll reluctantly wrap up our evening there and head to 59th St Columbus Circle for ice cream at Venchi. The shop is charming, with its rich aroma of coffee and chocolate. I adore their coffee-flavored ice cream. By the way, I don’t usually eat ice cream, but for tonight, I’ll make another exception. The cold sweetness will be a delightful contrast to the warmth of our conversation.
We’ll take the A/C train back to PA, the rhythmic clatter of the tracks a soothing backdrop to our chatter. We’ll catch the bus to Hoboken, and the perfect ending to our night will be a kiss on the Hoboken waterfront at Maxwell Place Park. The park is peaceful, with the gentle lapping of the river against the shore and the city skyline twinkling in the distance. Maybe I’m biased, but it’s my favorite spot. There’s something magical about it, a place where dreams and reality blur.
As we walk home, I notice her slowing down, her feet hurting from her choice of footwear. Without a second thought, I’ll offer her my shoes, a small gesture of love and care. She’ll laugh and accept, and we’ll continue our walk, her in my oversized shoes, both of us giggling like kids.
The end of our night will be simple but perfect. We’ll reach home, hearts full, and I’ll know that this is a night to live for.
A night that proves, beyond my work and ambitions, that love is what truly makes life worth living.
