He threw yet another curve ball.
Yesterday was my day off, so I took major advantage of it and spent my time out, with my friends. It was rather nice: A few good friends, lunch out in the grass, overlooking a nearby lake...pure bliss. I definitely was not expecting the following events...it was the last thing on my mind.
Anyways, after praying Maghrib at a friends apartment, I made my way back home. As I pull up to my driveway, I see 2 cars parked out by my house...two very familiar cars. My parents didn't tell me there were going to be visitors. If I had known I definitely would not be wearing THIS hijaab, and OMG I'm so sweaty from playing soccer. The cars? My brother's car was blocking the driveway as it always does on the weekends when he comes by with his daughter and the other....are you ready for this? Mr. Possibility's car was parked on my driveway....IN MY SPOT. Naturally, I parked my car on the street. The keys remained in the ignition and my headlights remained on - I sat there for what seemed like hours, but in actuality was probably just a couple minutes. What the - what is he doing here? Does my hijaab look okay? Where's my lip gloss? Maybe its not him....maybe his parents came in his car, but then why are they here? The questions are bombarding my mind, almost like my neurons are having some kind of party. I can't deny that I didn't feel like turning on my car and taking off, but I didn't. Instead, I took a deep breath, looked at myself in the mirror, pulled the keys out of the ignition and made my way to my front door.
I opened the door and peeked my head in, the way I do when I'm home really late and I want to see if my mom is sitting on the couch waiting for me before I start to dish out the 101 reasons why I'm late. Only this time, my mom wasn't on the couch....he was. This is not happening!! Only, it was. Well you can't shut the door and leave now...you may as well go in. "Assalamualaikum" I say generally, loud enough for people to hear, but quiet enough to not invite any unwarranted conversation. And then, I quickly run upstairs. As I ran up the stairs, I noticed a bouquet of flowers on the coffee table. No, seriously, this isn't happening. When I got in my room, I sat on my bed, staring at the mirror as if it was going to give me answers, and it didn't.
My phone buzzes - a text message - from him. "I didn't come here to see your parents you know..." This is happening. I changed my clothes - a nicer hijaab and an nicer smelling abaya, put on a little lip gloss and made my way downstairs again. I swear my heart was pounding so fast it felt like it was gonna jump out of my chest. His parents are sitting down with my parents and he's sitting with my brother. They all seemed to be engaged in conversation that suddenly ceased when I walked downstairs. AWKWARD! Again I say salaams, this time it was loud enough for me to hear over my beating heart.
His mom jumps off her seat and greets me with this huge hug and kiss. I was too nervous to even say a word to him, I didn't even want to look at him. When I said talk to my dad, I didn't mean come over!!! I find a seat next to my mom. Again, my phone buzzes. I should have left that stupid phone upstairs!
With any aunty hook-up thing, or any aunty get together thing for that matter, there was tea and cookies. My mother elbows me and says "Why don't you see if Mr. Possiblity wants any." If looks could kill, I think my mother might have been dead tonight (May Allah (SWT) protect her). I didn't ask him if he wanted any, but instead his mother called him to the table. As if that's not awkward enough, my mother and his mother leave the table and we're left to sit there. Why is this so hard?? I've known him my whole life.
He tells a couple dumb jokes to ease the tension off of me a little - I suppose the comic relief helped a bit. We talked for a while. And by "we talked" I mean he talked, I say a couple of words in response to his questions and we suffered through a million awkward silences.
The verdict? I have decided to give it a shot. His parents and my parents seem very interested in this union and I love them all very dearly. So for them - and for a bit of guilty pleasure - I am going to try....TRY....to make this work.
They leave...another buzz...."How's that for my grand gesture? Sweet dreams"