Flirting with new possibilities on a moonlit night in Portugal

It was a dark and stormy night. Actually, it really wasn’t. But doesn’t the start of many captivating stories begin this way?

In actuality, it was an evening soft and warm. It was an evening where the moon lit both the sky and the river below. It was my last evening in Portugal, my second home.

After a last day both gentle and eventful (yes, the two can coexist), my Heart Sister, brother-in- law and I went for an evening coffee to a restaurant set by the river in a town near their home. I’ve dined here before and enjoyed the service, the food and the atmosphere. It’s very casual — much like we are — and the view of the moored boats and the swiftly flowing river along with the gentle breeze makes it a place to relax. 

We sat at a table, looked out at the river and marvelled about the moonlight and its reflection on the water. We were chatting about the night's perfection when I first saw him. Saw him and locked eyes with him. And could not look away. Thankfully, he was our server which gave him reason to approach our table. 

Warm, deep chocolate brown eyes. Eyes that smiled in conjunction with the smile that was wide and open. Bronzed skin that glowed under the soft light. Tall with a slimmer build and hair that was long and partially braided and scooped up and back.  A man around my age who would be at home anywhere in the world, judging by the ease with which he carried himself. 

He spoke only Portuguese and since my limited vocabulary consists of please, thank you and cuss words, I left it to my brother-in-law to converse and order. While he did, this intriguing, handsome man looked at me, repeatedly, and I returned each look with a wide eyed look of interest. 

My eyes followed him as he moved about. Or should I say my eyes met his as he moved about. Glances, smiles all exchanged. I have no idea why but I felt somewhat powerless to not see and be seen by him. 

After he brought us our hot drinks, he pulled out his phone and took a few shots of the moon and its magic. After he did, I smiled, gestured to his camera and he showed me his photos. They were beautiful. Captivating. 

I stood up and took a few pictures of my own. After I did, I turned to find him standing near. He motioned for me to be in the photo and I laughed and shook my head no. He gently insisted and I gave in and handed him my phone. As he clicked, he smiled his approval at my acquiescence and at my image. I blushed, wondering just how eyes and smiles and the presence of someone with no words spoken can be so infectious. 

We walked the short distance back to the table. My brother-in-law asked for the bill and the beautiful man and he chatted briefly. My brother-in-law said it was my last night in Portugal. The beautiful man wished me a safe journey home. We stood and slowly left the restaurant, the beautiful man and I exchanging final looks, smiles. 

We reached the vehicle and I tucked myself into the backseat. As we drove away, I blurted out: “I flirted with that man." My Heart Sister giggled from the front and said I flirt a lot, to which I firmly protested: “I do not!” And I don’t. If I do or say anything remotely flirty, I assure you it’s not intentional. Flirting is not a skill I possess, not an art I have mastered. And, after much self-reflection, still not something I’m sure I want to add to my repertoire of life skills. 

This holiday, I’ve lamented to my Heart Sister about not wanting to date to wondering if I should go on a dating app. She’s listened patiently as I see-saw repeatedly between life on my own and what life might be like in a partnership. Through it all, she’s been supportive in both a loving and ass-kicking way. She’s reassured me whatever choice I make will be the right choice for me. And now, from the backseat of her vehicle, zipping along the winding roads that will take us to the top of a hill where they live, I’ve declared that I flirted. Softly, gently. But meaningfully. I’m pretty sure it’s enough to make her reach for a carafe of sangria. 

My brother-in-law doesn’t say much — a smart man — and lets us jabber on about the beautiful man and my small step forward. Every journey begins with a single step forward, no matter how large or small.

For me, this is both. A small step in the fact that it was not overt. It was a flirt in the moment, a flirt without a final destination. But it was also a large step in that I intentionally let myself be seen. I didn’t shrink or hide. It was soft and gentle. It was kind. It was me being who I am: a woman of 60 years, a woman who’s invisible to parts of the population due to faded looks and a mind not as sharp as before (please see my previous post about this) and having a beautiful man momentarily finding me attractive. It was about me believing that I am.

This might be something. Not the beautiful man and I, but the fact this intentional flirt has given me pause for thought. It’s opened a door to possibilities. It’s made me think about the fact flirting without language can be powerful. Body language can say it all. And my body, which I do not give enough credit to, can say things. 

This might be nothing. I have the choice to revert back to a woman who enjoys the fruits of life on her own. The step back is small, the door can be closed softly before others know it was cracked. But I know. I know and now I have another decision to make. Do I keep this door open? It doesn’t mean I need to flirt constantly and with everyone. But it does mean that I can, on occasion and selectively, not shrink from attention. It means accepting that someone finds me attractive and interesting. It means potentially shaking up my life a bit more if I let it. If I’m ready for it. I think I am. 

All good questions and none with answers that need be decided immediately. For now, though, what makes me smile is the memory of a beautiful man on a moonlight Portuguese night making me smile.