As Yet Untitled

A re-post from Small Fish in a Big Pond...

Tuesday, April 22, 2003

I went on a dinner date tonight, with someone I've known for my whole life.

I met him at his office after work and he took me to a cute little restaurant to share in good food and even better conversation. The hostess showed us to a quiet little table in the corner on the second floor, where we had a nice view. He offered to buy me a beer, which I thought was funny because I've never drank with him before, but I declined, and he said, "That's good. I don't really like to drink anyway." But I knew that already.

After we ordered our food (chicken for him, pasta for me-- and when our food came we did the usual routine: half of my food on his plate and vice versa), we started to catch up. It had been awhile since we had a chance to really talk. He asked me to tell him more about the new job I'll be starting in two weeks, and he was happy and excited for me. But mostly, he talked and I listened. He talked to me of faith and how it always gets him through the tough times in his life; about his gentle, artistic father whose childlike innocence was both a blessing and a curse during his childhood, and whose faith grows stronger as his health grows weaker. He told me about his salvation experience in junior high, and he asked me to come and be a Korean school teacher at his church. I said I'd think about it. He told me about his work in architecture and construction, how he placed the foundation for the very restaurant we were at tonight. I thought that was funny-- he's built a lot of my foundation, too. He said he used to watch this one Korean actress in her dramas while I was away at school because he missed me, and she reminded him of me.

The more he talked, the more I realized things about this man-- how much he reminds me of my brother, how fair he is, how he's a straight shooter, even with himself. He's never one to sugarcoat things, this guy... he always tells it like it is, even if it doesn't win him any points. It used to drive me crazy when I was younger because he'd often bruise my ego, but now I realize how rare it is to be able to count on someone to always tell you the truth. He talks pretty slow, and I used to think that was just his way. But tonight I realized it's because he always chooses his words carefully, and never says anything unnecessarily. But above all, I was reminded of how much he loves me. He has this one expression on his face whenever I make him laugh that says it all. It feels like... home.

And at the end of the meal, when the bill came, there was no awkwardness or arguments over who would pay because, well... who argues about things like that with their dad?