You’re sitting by the corner of the café, possibly immersed in your latest read. It’s a thrilling plot with many twists, turns and red herrings. You’re reading each sentence intently, not wanting to miss any clue that might point you towards the real culprit and the astounding ending that the book promises.

The cup of hot caffe you’ve purchased an hour ago has long turned cold and the strange lady seated at the table facing you has since gone on with the remainder plans of her day. You haven’t noticed you’ve received several new WhatsApp messages and notifications regarding the Facebook status update you posted 3 hours ago.

You’re just about to admit to yourself that you must put away the book temporarily, because caffeine is diuretic and Nature is calling, when you notice him for the first time. He’s taken the strange lady’s place and has settled himself down with an iced flavored tea and his Kindle in hand.

You notice him and the slight 5 o’clock shadow forming on his cupid’s bow, and those lips… You abruptly check yourself for that but your eyes rest themselves immediately on his almost perfect aquiline nose, chiseled cheekbones, and impossibly bright eyes his thick-rimmed frames can’t seem to dull.

Book and nature are now forgotten. You feel that queer flush in your cheeks and you’re horrified at the thought of him turning to find you in such a state. As if he had heard those alarm bells in your head and desires to mock you, he does indeed turn his head…  in your direction.

You think you’ve made a decent save by quickly looking towards the barista counter located behind his table. But he’s smiling at you, seemingly bemused by your antics and you curse yourself for being that obvious. You’re contemplating how to recover gracefully when Nature’s call sounds once again and you’re reminded how effective that cuppa was.

You make haste for the Ladies; your back is facing his table as you exit so you don’t know if he’s still grinning at you, amused by your behavior. Whilst in the cubicle, you run through the earlier scenario again, at the same time not knowing how ruminating could change the course of your encounter. Nor how it could bring comfort to you for the  clearly embarrassing faux pas you committed earlier on.

While washing your hands, you tell yourself it would be better to find some other café to continue with the book and save yourself further humiliation. You assure yourself again you’ve made the right decision as you make your way back to your seat to pack up. That’s when you noticed he has already gone on his way.

You tell yourself that it’s just as well, considering what had transpired earlier on. You’re back in your seat, noting the page of your book that you’ve stopped at when you spot that he has left a half-finished cup behind. Because it’s half-finished, the barista on duty has not cleared it. You spy some handwriting, that can only be meant for you because of the way he’s left the cup – at your eye level, head on from your vantage point.

You’re trembling with anticipation as you walk over to read what he might have written. Close up, you’ve confirmed that it is indeed for you. “Hi, I’m C, it’s nice to meet you. I’ll see you here same time tomorrow?” You’re thrilled (Why me? I was such an idiot!); you allow yourself to feel a little thrilled at least. But the excitement is soon replaced by apprehension about turning up tomorrow as per his invitation.

  • What if it’s just a prank?
  • What if he’s a player?
  • What if he’s too serious?
  • What if it’s meant for someone else? Like the cute female barista?
  • What if it is meant for you but nothing pans out?
  • What if the first date is a disaster?
  • What if the second is the killer?
  • What if… what if… what if…?

Suddenly you’re amused by your own apprehension. You’ve become so jumpy and your train of thoughts so ridiculous, the situation is practically laughable as you check yourself. Yes, what if, but also so what? So what if he isn’t the right one, assuming that he means business and isn’t fooling around?

Your friends often advised you to let the right one in, but how often does one know whether the individual is the “right” one or not? Well, we don’t, and we probably never will. Because people change, or maybe they’re never who they seem to be right from the get-go.

But that’s the way Life is. You might meet someone in a café, or a bar, the mall, or even on the bus – the possibilities are infinite. You’re straight up physically attracted to his/her features, and god forbid, that winsome smile, but you don’t really know to what extent or how else you might stay attracted to him/her, assuming it is plausible to assume both are interested in each other.

Neither do you know if the conversations you have will flourish or sour. Or that he/she turns out to be the worst companion on Earth, with the meanest streak ever. The fact is, you don’t, and you’ll never quite know if he or she is the right one for you at any given point in time.

But if you must decide to assure yourself, you’ll have to be bold to give each moment a shot. You have to work your part, be both risky but vigilant. You have to be willing to take necessary chances and willing to be hurt if things don’t work out the way you expected them to. When all has been said and done, you’ll move on to the next right one, and you’ll make those moments happen for you again.

Just remember that in those moments when you somehow know he’s the one, revel in it, memorize it, and love it. Because for that one singular moment, you decided he was the right one and you let him in.