You go to Simmzy’s at Pacific City for a first date. You sit inside because it is too cold to be anywhere else. The food is good, but you barely notice it. You talk too much. You can hear yourself filling the space a little more than you should, trying to be funny, trying not to leave any
silences. It is not awkward, but it is not effortless either. You are nervous and you know it.

After you drop her off, you start driving home. You are replaying the night in your head, picking apart the small stuff, thinking about all the things you could have said better. You crack the window even though the air is freezing.

Somewhere on the drive, “First Day of My Life” comes on. You didn’t pick it. It just shows up like the universe is messing with you.
“I was blind before I met you.” The lyric hits harder than you want it to. You are not someone who reads into songs or signs, but still, you feel something. You smile a little without meaning to. You do not change the song.

The streets are mostly empty. The lights blur past without you even taking notice. “I don’t know where I am, I don’t know where I’ve been.” That sounds about right. You do not know where this is going. You just know you want it to.

You pull into the driveway as the song ends. “This is the first day of my life.” You sit there a little longer, holding onto the feeling because it is not big or loud, but it feels important anyway.

Later, when you hear that song again, it takes you right back. Not to the nerves or the second-guessing. Just to that quiet hope you almost didn’t notice at the time.