if food be the music of love

there often comes a point in a dating relationship where a couple no longer worries about how they eat in front of each other. many couples reach a point where neither of people involved mind when the other stuffs their face so enthusiastically they end up wearing part of their food. some couples never really reach this point. others reach this point and hang out there for a little while before drifting back to some level of daintiness.

granted, there is no single explanation for this shift; perhaps, it's the mark of someone no longer trying to impress their significant other and therefore indicates loss of interest. perhaps, it's a sign of someone no longer worried about losing their significant other and therefore indicates a certain degree of comfort and trust. whatever the reason may be, this is not something I am considering at the moment. the fact is I'm not considering much of anything at the moment because I'm too busy stuffing my head full of food.

color me glamorous.

a pause in the action allows my flailing brain to catch its breath and keep from drowning in a sea of liquified meat and pita. I come to the sudden unfortunate realization that my mouth and part of my face are covered with tzatziki. I say unfortunate because I have my hands full with a disintegrating gyro. now, I'm stuck because if I set the gyro down, it'll completely fall apart and I'll have to eat it with a fork.

damnit.

I feel like certain foods-- sandwiches, burritos, pizzas-- though they may start to come apart as you eat them, they lose a certain essence of themselves (in this instance, "gyro-ness") if you give up, opt for daintiness and eat them with a fork. this may be simple stubborness on my part. this may be just borderline OCD. I really have no idea. all I know is I got two fistfuls of gyro and a faceful of tzatziki that I have to do something about. I pause to consider whether I can wipe my face with the side of the gyro or something.

or something.

mmmmm.... gyro.

instead of doing anything, I end up having one of those moments where I think I'm thinking, but in actuality, I just stare blankly at my food.

a giggle brings my attention across the table. funny how in all of this, I forgot that I'm not sitting by myself. I have no idea how long she's been watching this drama unfold. maybe I can act like this idiocy is intentional. maybe I can pass this off as one of my zany moments. I'm a zany guy. this is on purpose. this, of course, is how idiots who've been laughed at all their lives make a feeble attempt to laugh with.

her eyes gleam mischeviously. hrmmm... attempt failed. she sees right through it. I think I'm about to get embarrassed. she pauses a moment longer just because she knows I'm waiting to be filled in on a joke at my expense. with grin and a little flair, she strains to spread her arms as far apart as she can.

"this much." she says.

I'm dumbfounded. I'm normally not too quick on the uptake, but now I'm really struggling. what the hell is going on here? with a headful of tzatiki, there isn't room for the brain to work with. I give up.

"this much what?" I reply very tentatively-- still just sitting there with my mouth full and still clutching my gyro remnants like a goddamn twit.

"I like you this much."

warning, overwhelming cuteness has melted the brain.

gawk for a moment longer before swallowing, dropping the mess of food, wiping the face and finally, finally, at long last, leaning across the table.