I just had to see the sights again. I walked for a long time along the Thames, remembering the last time I was here and the feelings I had seeing it all for the first time. For an hour I stood on Westminster Bridge and just stared at Big Ben and the Parliament. I let my thoughts flow freely. I watched people. I felt at ease standing there and letting the world pass me by for once.
It had been a crazy year for me. I had worked my ass off, getting everything done for uni and this was a reward for me. Time off. Time I so often missed during semester. I didn´t even had time to feel sad after my boyfriend dumped me. I just didn´t have the time. I had such a busy, crazy schedule that I postponed the chocolate eating and romantic movie watching sessions till later until I didn´t need to have it anymore. This is also a very nice way of coping with break-ups, though I admit that it was not intended. Fact is that there were some things that had to be done, papers that had a deadline, presentations that needed to be ready by a specific date, things I had to sort out in order to be ready to plan my next step. I was too busy to cry over the loss of him and in the end I realized that that was alright in a way.
As I turned to look at London Eye, I felt strangely calm. Even though there were a lot of people rushing by me, even though I heard a lot of different languages around me, I felt peaceful on the inside. This is where I should be, I thought to myself. I have always been a sucker for fate and signs and I guess that it is a good sign if you stand on a busy bridge and the only thing you feel is peace. You could feel hastened, hurried, unsteady, you could shiver from the cold wind, you could feel a migraine coming on, you could even feel claustrophobic by all the people around that were so busy taking pictures of themselves and Big Ben that they didn´t even notice that the blocked the whole street. Indeed, you could feel many things, but who´d say that he felt tranquil in that scenario?
Startled by a police car rushing by with its siren on, I continued to cross the bridge and walked past Big Ben. I walked with a slow pace, enjoying the rush of the people around me without rushing myself. As a big city girl, I avoided crashing into people by sliding through the mass, always managing to find a gap in the crowd. My sister and I used to play a game where we had to get through a crowd to a specific point. Whoever got there first won. Which was usually me, because I just have a talent of finding my way, let that be through masses of people, in the countryside without a map or on my way home, totally wasted. I´d always find a way to my destination. My sister used to say that the fact that I could find my way at anytime was a sign in itself. This was when I started believing in signs. I knew that my talent of always knowing where to go would someday lead me to the perfect place – and to the perfect man.
At the crossroads, I felt the urge to turn right, so I headed into the direction of Trafalgar Square. Once there, I shopped for a sandwich, something to drink and a bag of chips at Tesco´s and then tried to find a place at Trafalgar Square to sit and eat. I couldn´t find any other place to sit but on the stairs leading to the National Gallery.
While the sun was warming my face that did feel a bit cold after the chilly wind on Westminster Bridge, I ate my sandwich and looked around. The world around me was a loud, cheerful place with so many people around that I sometimes forgot to eat my sandwich, because I was people watching. I love people watching. I think that you can learn a lot about humans when you just sit and watch them for a while. I always believed to have a good sense about people and what they were up to. My friends usually introduced me to their new partners just to see what my opinion was about them, because I was usually right with my initial impression. I just knew that Marc wasn´t the commitment type and that he would name that as the reason to dump Kelly, which he did after only three months. I felt somehow estranged by Spencer´s new girlfriend, because she simply refused to give any satisfying answers to my question. It really was a shame that Spencer had waited six month to introduce her to me, because I knew for sure that she had another guy. Spencer saw them just last week together at an Italian restaurant. And that guy next to her surely wasn´t her brother, if you know what I mean.
I had just finished eating my chicken sandwich and was getting the bag of chips out of the Tesco´s bag, as a little girl raced down the stairs and hurried past me squealing happily. She attempted to chase the pigeons and as they flew off she just raised her arms to heaven and laughed loudly. I was just entwined by her cheerfulness and the pleasure she took out of a simple thing such as bird chasing.
As I watched her run after another pigeon I noticed that a guy across from me was watching her as well, a smile on his lips. He had a half eaten sandwich in one hand and a coffee cup in the other and was just looking at the little girl and her bouncing fair curls as she ran around in absolute contentment. He watched her for a while and then seemed to remember that he was holding a sandwich. As he continued eating, I continued watching him.
I instantly liked his style. He was wearing light grey pants and a grey shirt with a black blazer. I always fancy guys that wear blazers on a regular day and not just to a wedding reception or for meeting the parents (and complained about having to wear a blazer all the time). His hair was a bit long, but not too long. I wanted to go through his hair with my hands, I thought, watching him put the coffee down and pushing his hair back with his now free hand. I just adored his hands. I love a man with long finger, like the finger of a piano player. Short, stubby fingers are an absolute turn-off for me. I couldn´t date a men whose hands weren´t elegant, but short and (oh my god) dirty. Worst case scenario, really. I don´t mind a man with chest hair, I don´t mind a bold man or one with flowing hair, I don´t mind a not totally trained man, I don´t mind dating someone with a scar or with a whole in his jeans, but I literally can´t date guys with ugly hands.
Yet he seemed to be the whole package. I could see that chest hair I am so crazy about through the open buttons of his long sleeve shirt, as he got up to take off his blazer, probably because he was getting warm sitting in the sun. The reasons why I got warm were of a totally different origin altogether. I felt connected to him. As to hide my constant staring, I rumbled in my purse and found my sunglasses. As I put them on and looked at him again, he got up and walked closer to me. My glance followed him eagerly, but he only got up to throw his empty coffee cup and the plastic wrapping of the sandwich in the trash can. As he disposed himself of the trash, he turned to look at me and a frown appeared on his face.
Instantly, I corrected my posture, sat up straight and closed my mouth, trying to look as casual as possible. He lifted his hand again and pushed back his hair and then turned to walk back to his seat. As he got there, he took his sunglasses out of the pocket of his blazer. Putting them on, he turned to look in my direction again and I imagined to be feeling his stare on me. How thrilling it was to have him look at me. He must be watching at me. He must be checking me out. He must have felt the same. I knew it was a sign that I felt the urge to turn right at the crossroads. Why would fate have me choose this direction, if not to find my true love?
Under his constant glare, I straightened my hair that the wind had blown in my face. I put the sunglasses away and as I got up to go the trash can myself, I felt him looking at me. I knew it! I so knew it. I just have great people skills. I always know what people are up to. I can rely on the initial feeling I have about people.
With the best possible sway I could manage I walked to the fountain at Trafalgar Square and spun around to look at him. He had turned his head into my direction. I could feel a tickling all through my body as he got up and walked over to me with long strides. Standing before me, he took his glasses off and then started talking to me.