fresh

I escaped from the office as usual at lunchtime, headphones on even before I'd reached the lift, relief washing over me as the opening bars of 'down colorful hill' rang in my ears.

I found a seat in my usual area of the grounds of the city hall, however, this time on the other side of the railings -- outside the grounds, to be precise -- on a bench, watching the people walk by, shopping, on their lunch break, the kids hanging round with nothing better to do now that school is finished. as per usual I was in my own world, the red house painters escorting me away from the traffic and the noise and the humming of money being made and spent, even out here, in the wide-open streets.

the people blend into one mass as they drift by, barely distinguishable - but then something caught my eye. a boy and a girl, probably about eleven, probably wearing smarter clothes than they needed to for a thursday afternoon walking round belfast city centre, and clearly a new couple, and not only that but this was their very first date, ever, with a member of the opposite sex. it was their first step... little did they know they would be sliding down the slippery slope sooner than they had anticipated. you could tell, it was clear: the way he had his arm round her shoulders, stiff as a plank, as if he was comforting a damp dog. her arm around his waist, not quite leaning into him, not quite touching, just hovering, uncomfortably.

I must admit I did find the scene amusing, I envisaged the both of them going off to meet a set of their friends - either his or hers, but probably not both, and these friends may not have boyfriends/girlfriends of their own yet, and the couple would demonstrate their maturity and superiority by showing how at ease they were with holding hands and Being Together. I doubt, however, that they would have the confidence to go any futher, in public - no kiss goodbye as one of them boards the bus (that's a half fare, please, under-16), not yet a squeeze of the hand, not yet a caress of the face. just standing about, blushing, hands awkwardly in pockets.

it also made me wistful, for I never had a chance to go through all this at that age, never had a chance to experience the awkwardness whilst it was still new territory - all that came later, afterwards, with cynicism and sarcasm and unnecessary complications - the waters had already been charted, then, and the cartographers had been elevated to wise old men, knowledgable in the way of Women.

regardless, apart from my selfish yearnings, I was happy for them: just think of the fun they'll have, how happy they'll be, in the next couple of weeks. unlikely to be more than weeks. summer holidays are a long time when you're eleven. yes, heartbreak will come, but it will pass. early teenage birthday parties, on the brink before things become too serious, can spin the bottle still be played /sans/ irony at that age? I hope so, I hope so.