The Executioner

Tomorrow is blind-date day.

I told a friend of mine “It might hurt too much if things don’t go well”

My friend replied “It will be her loss!”

“And mine too” I counter.

To which my friend is silent.

So I face death by lethal extraction, the extraction of my hopes and dreams, and I face this alone.

Across the table from me will be an attractive girl, confident, positive, a person who has seen her fair share of life and of suffering. This is a person who left behind childish fears long ago and sees the idea of a blind-date as fun and exciting and a great way to meet new people.

And of course it’s not as if I have much to lose. But from he who had nothing even the little he had was taken away.

I think I might start by saying to her “Excuse me if I seem a little nervous”. I don’t think I’ll say “Excuse me if I seem terrified, if everything I say seems rehearsed and it appears I want to be anywhere but with you; face-to-face with my doom”.

But that is only how I feel – I can still be brave. I will meet my destroyer in clothes that are clean and ironed. I will be washed and clean shaven. I will smile and be generous and listen to what she has to say about herself. And when the moment of my annihilation arrives I will not plead for mercy. No, even if my insides turn to water and I shake with fear, I will be strong.

Then again, it might all go okay.