The girl with the yellow shoes


Do you believe in love? I try to believe in it, deep inside I want to. But reality has shown me that love is far from the fairytale in a book or movie. Love can be excruciatingly painful and often doesn’t have the ‘happily ever after’ ending. I’ve seen enough of bad endings, with family, friends, and even myself. I thought I wasn’t destined for true love, the love where you walk with your head in the clouds all day, where you can’t stop smiling because butterflies are tickling the inside of your stomach, until on one October morning things would change. It was one of those dreary mornings where I look out of my bedroom window and all I see is one solid grey sky. The sun was completely hidden from view and the only thing I wanted to do was crawl back into my bed, throw the sheets over my head, and fall asleep again. But instead I had to force myself to get ready for work. I live and work in a fairly big city and for me the metro is the easiest way to go to work. While not my favorite way to travel, it’s reliable, most of the time, and I don’t get stuck in traffic jams. The three metro lines, or subway as they call it in most places outside my province, Quebec, are the veins of the city. A lot of people like me use it every day to get to their destinations in the morning, or evening. And because so many people use it as their main way to commute around the city, it can be very cramped at times. When I’m in the metro I like observing my fellow passengers. While there is a lot of diversity in skin color, hair color, size and style of clothing, I noticed most passengers have that same expressionless look on their face, tucked away in a book or newspaper or just staring into the nothingness in front of them. There’s always a lack of acknowledgment of their fellow commuters as they shuffle around, reluctantly making room for one another while they hide in their own little bubble, listening to their iPods or just look passed each other. It wasn’t different on that gloomy Thursday morning when I sat in the metro, lucky to have a seat. People in front of me were uncomfortable moving around to let new passengers in while the metro stood still at another stop. I was looking around when two sunflower yellow sneakers caught my eye. I don’t know why, but it was something cheerful amidst brown, black and grey shoes, and curious to whom they belonged to; I followed the jeans, which were connected to the shoes, upwards. But because of the mass of bodies huddled closer together than most people are comfortable with in a normal situation, I couldn’t see the face that belonged to the yellow sneakers. The metro came to a halt at the university stop and the yellow sneakers disappeared from the metro. Probably a student then , I thought to myself, and while the metro continued its journey, the yellow shoes were forgotten and my mind was occupied with tasks that had to be done that day at work. A few days later I was on my way to work again; all seats were occupied when I got in so I was leaning with my back against the side, staring aimlessly down, deep in thought when I saw them again, the sunflower yellow sneakers. They were standing in front of the door, not far from where I stood. Although all seats were occupied, the metro wasn’t overcrowded and curiously I looked up to see more of this mysterious person this time. I noticed it was a girl but unfortunately the girl, to whom the shoes belonged to, was standing with her back towards me. She wasn’t tall, about 5’2″ and her brown hair reached to just a few inches over her shoulders. She wore a dark brown jacket, in contrast to her yellow shoes, and black pants. For some strange reason, there was something about her that fascinated me. Her demeanor, her appearance, or maybe just her yellow sneakers, I wasn’t really sure. But I knew I wanted to know more about her. But it would be a bit strange to tap a stranger on the shoulder, someone I’ve never talked to before, and say: “Hey, those are some nice shoes, I just wanted to know what you look like.” So I did nothing. And when the metro reached the University escort izmit stop, I watched her step out, hoping to catch a glimpse of her face as she turned to walk to the exit. But she didn’t turn enough for me to see her face and when the metro pulled away, she disappeared out of sight. The next few days I was paying extra attention to spot the girl with the yellow shoes. I had never seen at what stop she got onto the metro and I was getting very curious, or maybe a little bit obsessed, about this mysterious person. Days passed without a glimpse of the yellow shoes. Until, on a sunny Friday morning I was sitting in the metro again on my way to work. For some reason it’s always less crowded on sunny days, or maybe it was because it was a Friday, or maybe a mix of both, but there were enough free seats available, even next to me. It was only the second stop after the stop where I get in when the doors of the metro opened and a pair of yellow shoes were standing and waiting on the platform. I quickly looked up and there she was, my mysterious person. Finally I could see the face of the mysterious owner of the yellow shoes, and what kind of a face. Her shapely face, framed by her medium brown hair, was more beautiful than I had imagined. Her sweet brown eyes looked aimlessly forward, as if deep in thought. But it must have been pleasant thoughts, because the corners of her soft pink lips were curled up into a smile. Suddenly she looked straight at me, her eyebrows arched in a questioning look. Then I realized what I was doing. I was sitting there staring at her, with the look on my face of a child looking into the window of a toy store. I quickly looked the other way, while I cursed myself for my dorky behavior. She must have thought I was some kind of weirdo for staring at her with a strange look on my face. To my surprise I saw her coming towards me in the reflection of the metro window, and actually sat down beside me. I was thinking hard about what to say to her to explain me staring at her like that. I could say something funny to make her laugh and various comical comments popped into my mind, but were soon dismissed as too cheeky. Then I remembered what a friend of mine once said, when we were in a discussion about similar situations like this, the stranger part, not the staring like a weirdo part. She said that sometimes a simple “hello” was more than enough. Not knowing what else to say, I decided to try it. If it wouldn’t work I could always blame my friend. Tell her she was wrong. I turned my head to the girl and said: “Hello.” “Hi,” she replied softly. I was still thinking about what to say next when she spoke again. “It may sound a little strange, but you just looked at me as if you recognized me from somewhere. Do you recognize me from somewhere? ” Okay, so she saw me staring at her, but fortunately she thought it was a look of recognition instead of a creepy look. “Your yellow sneakers,” I said without thinking. As soon as the words left my mouth I was cursing to myself for not thinking before actually saying something. “My yellow sneakers?” She asked as she giggled softly. “How do you know my yellow sneakers?” I couldn’t help myself from smiling, thinking about how strange that must have sounded, and I decided to confess to her. “Well, it may sound a bit strange, but a few days ago I saw you in the metro, well I saw your yellow sneakers. But it was so crowded, I could only see your sneakers and I was curious about the person who was wearing those yellow sneakers.” “And you still remembered that, even a few days later?” the girl ask, grinning at me. I wasn’t really sure how to answer that. It did sound a bit silly. I looked her in the eyes and winked. “There are some things I just don’t want to forget.” “Well, aren’t you the charmer,” she said, a light red blush adorning her face. We laughed and the ice was broken. Soon we were swapping funny anecdotes about the metro and things related to it. And it was all too soon that her stop was nearing. “I have to get off at the next stop. It was nice meeting you…” izmit escort “Tom,” I said quickly. “Meggie,” she replied holding out her hand. “It was certainly nice meeting you, Meggie,” I said while taking her hand into mine. The following weeks we ran into each other in the metro regularly. Those ten minutes we spent together sitting or standing next to each other were something special, our little thing. Bit by bit we got to know each other. We talked about my work, her studies, little things that kept us busy or big things that were important to us. There was always this sexual tension between us, the playful punch she gave me when I made another one of my bad jokes, the pat on her leg I gave her when we had to laugh when she said something silly. Those electric touches that lingered through our bodies but we both didn’t want to admit they were there. It was early December and the first snow had fallen. The city was covered in its first white of the winter and it always has something magical. I decided I wanted to do something about the relationship with Meggie. She seemed to be in my head more often than not and I could no longer deny that I had feelings for her. On the occasional day that I didn’t see her in the metro, I felt disappointed. Luckily those days were few because she knew which metro I always took to work and would be ready and waiting on the platform to get in on that same metro. On that first snowy day Meggie came in and sat next to me. We said our hellos and of course the snowfall was our conversation subject. After a while I changed the subject. “Meggie, we never talked about this, but I have a feeling there’s more between us than we both want to admit.” “That could be possible,” Meggie said with a mysterious smile. “Well possibly, would you go out to dinner with me sometime then?” I asked, looking into her sweet brown eyes. “Well, possibly, I could say yes to that.” “I could possibly even cook for you,” I said, while winking at her. “That’s possibly even more interesting,” she responded, staring somewhat dreamily. “Tell you what. You know when I take the metro so we’ll do this. Next week, if I see you in the metro on Monday, I take you out for dinner. If I see you on Tuesday, I’ll cook for you at my place. If I see you on Wednesday, we’ll never talk about this ever again.” Meggie thought for a moment and then smiled at me. “Okay, deal.” —– The next Monday I was standing a bit nervous in the metro. I wondered if Meggie remembered what we had agreed on. Or maybe she had started to doubt over the weekend and would not show up any more at all. But I didn’t believe that, she would show up, the question was when. When the metro stopped at ‘her’ stop there was no sign of yellow shoes. No dinner in a restaurant then, I thought to myself. I couldn’t help but to feel a little disappointed, but there was still tomorrow. The next day I was more nervous, if she wouldn’t show up this time, we would never talk about it again. Nothing would ever happen between us. Her stop was fast approaching and I could feel my hands getting a little sweaty. The metro stopped, the doors opened and there she was, a warm smile radiating from her beautiful face. She spotted me quickly and walked over to me, but just when I wanted to say something she stood up on her toes, leaned into me and pressed her lips on mine. It was so unexpected that it took some time for me to react while she kissed me. Just when I started to react by wrapping my arms around her, she broke the kiss. Meggie snuggled her face within my neck as if she was a little embarrassed at what she had just done. We stood there for a while in a loving embrace, not talking, her arms around my waist, and my arms around her shoulders. The following days I was walking around with my head in the clouds. It is strange how things can look so different when you’re in love. The rain didn’t bring me down, work seemed to be less of a drag, and I saw the good things of life instead of grumbling about the bad things. On one of those days, when I saw Meggie izmit kendi evi olan escort in the metro, I gave her my address and we agreed that she would be at my apartment on Friday at seven in the evening. That Friday evening I was nervously running around my apartment, making sure everything looked neat and clean. My apartment is located in one of the more popular areas of the city, not far from where I live there are a lot of bars and restaurants, yet my street is reasonably quiet. I live on the top floor of the three story building. In the back I have a big balcony, where I like to sit in the sun or barbeque, although it’s not very useful in winter. There are wooden floors all throughout the house, except for the bathroom. And I’ve decorated everything so my apartment has an antique feel to it, you can even hear it when you walk around and the floor creaks beneath your feet. The dinner table in the living room was all made up, plates, cutlery, and candles of course. Some easy listening music was softly playing in the background. I’m reasonably tall, about 5’11” and for the occasion I’d put on black dress pants and a white shirt. I had contemplated to wear a tie, but I threw that idea away and just left the top two buttons open. I’m not the greatest cook; I’m the first to admit that, so I prepared a not too difficult meal, chicken with spicy sauce and rice with some salad on the side. I was just putting the last touches on the meal when the doorbell rang. Looking at the clock, I saw it was already seven and I hurried to open the door. There stood Meggie, more beautiful than I’d seen her in the metro. She wore a strapless dress and as she walked in and took off her jacket, it showed more skin than I’d ever seen in the metro. The smell of a clean, refreshing perfume reached my nostrils as she passed me. “My, you look stunning tonight. But where are your yellow shoes?” I smiled, looking at her black heels. “You don’t look bad yourself,” she laughed, “I didn’t think yellow shoes would be appropriate for the occasion.” I took her coat and showed her around the apartment before we sat down for dinner. Meggie and I never really had a long talk, since the metro ride only took about ten minutes before it reached Meggie’s stop, so I was a bit worried about how it would be to have all evening to talk to each other. But as the dinner progressed, it felt so natural and easy to talk to each other, like we knew each other for years. It was not hard for us to find topics as we both love to travel. We talked and joked and laughed. I couldn’t resist making a teasing comment once in a while, which made Meggie blush. The air was charged with sexual tension. The innocent touch as my hand brushed hers was almost electric. Unnoticeable and sometimes obvious we were looking each other up and down, yearning for what we secretly wanted to do to each other. After we finished our dinner, we both leaned contently back in our chairs. “So what’s for dessert?” Meggie asked. I thought for a moment, realizing I had totally forgotten about dessert. “Already? Haven’t you had enough food yet?” I replied, trying to joke my way out of it. “It was great, but there’s always room for dessert.” “Okay, well for dessert we’ll have to move to the couch,” I said, buying myself some time. “The couch? What kind of dessert is that? That it needs to be served on a couch?” Meggie laughed as she stood up and walked towards the living room. “You’ll see.” I quickly went to the kitchen and looked around. Of course there was nothing in the fridge I could use as dessert and I had never bought new ice-cream after I ran out at the end of the summer. Other options would take too long to prepare. Then I saw the bowl of white grapes on the kitchen counter. I had bought the grapes two days ago and now they looked juicy and ready to be eaten. Oh well, this will have to do, I thought, picking up the bowl. When I walked into the living room, Meggie was already sitting on the couch. “Grapes? That’s our dessert?” she laughed, looking at me while I walked towards her and put the bowl on the coffee table. “Yes, don’t you like them?” “I love them, but I had expected something… different.” “Well sometimes, Meggie…” I said, sitting down on the couch next to her, “… sometimes simpler is better.” I picked up a big grape, put it between my teeth and leaned in towards her.