She has laugh lines and her eyes crinkle in an amazing way when she laughs.
I don’t have the courage to tell her that it’s been more than three years since I’ve been on a successful date, since I’ve really been interested, since anything felt remotely right.
She surprises me and orders beer in a coffee shop.
I was worried about appearances and so I overdressed, and now I worry that she’ll think I’m too prissy.
The server is kind and keeps away while conversation flows.
She orders a second beer.
Asks me about my family. Asks me about my career. Asks me about my ambitions.
I cannot find the words to express things clearly. I don’t mention that I write or the passions I feel.
Too early for that, too soon for anything so heavy. 
We talk for just under three hours, she gives me a hug outside the door and my grandfather’s teachings keep me from attempting anything more.
Dinner might be nice, she responds when I ask.
She texts me later, on my walk home, and I though I read the message I can’t figure out the signal.
Small steps, I guess. New patterns and a changing view.