Rhapsody — a spoken expression of great emotion.
From the deepest part of my heart, I love you—standing still for a moment, fingers curled tight as if holding the feeling in place before it spills over. How should I show it? How should I express it? I said I was going to go all out, but I'll need your help.
Something done on a whim, or by accident, is not something I'll accept. This deep‑rooted love is founded in my fear—fear born from something that already happened. I know we have to get through this together, even though there are so many variables.
I don't want my doubts to cast dark shadows over this day, and I know they won't.
The feeling you bring is something special. You drive away all my doubts; there is no room for dark clouds. Rainy days don't stop me from thinking about you. Sometimes I wish I wasn't so attached—but I can't help it.
I'm impatient. I'm petrified to say it, yet I know I want everything you give. One day, all these stirred emotions will spill over. They'll be too hard to carry alone. Will you still be there then? Or maybe… maybe I misunderstood.
"Actually, I was very nervous about today." Joel looks down at the floor as he speaks. "I didn't know if you'd like the date—or me."
"You were that worried?" I ask, confused. "You thought I wouldn't like you?"
"Yeah." He sighs and runs a hand through his hair, avoiding my eyes for a moment before speaking again. "You've been avoiding me these past few days, and it's been driving me crazy. You drive me crazy." He swallows.
"I keep replaying our last conversations—the last words you said—trying to figure out what I could say better the next time I see you. I've been thinking about this date for as long as I can remember. Suddenly, my appearance mattered so much. And the way you look at me… it makes me feel like I'm in heaven."
"I thought you were only nervous about me not coming to the date—"
He cuts me off, reaching for my hands. "Adah… can I hold your hands?" I see emotions on his face I've never seen before. Usually, he smiles or laughs. Now it feels like he's let go of everything—ready for anything.
"Adah, there's a reason I took you to the mint chocolate factory today. First, it's your favorite. But it also means something to me." He hesitates. "If you had to describe mint chocolate, what would it be to you?"
"The mint," I say slowly, "represents something fresh—a renewal, a new beginning with clarity. The chocolate is sweet and comforting, but also deep and complex. Two sides of the same coin. Together, they marry perfectly: calm, with a warm complexity."
A smile spreads across his face. The trembling in his eyes fades, replaced by relief. He rubs the tops of my hands with his thumbs.
"This is my place of escape," he says quietly. "When I was younger, I used to come here whenever things felt too heavy—when I didn't know how to put my thoughts into words. Somewhere I can be—" He stops and looks into my eyes, as if asking permission.
"It's okay, Joel. Take your time. I'm listening."
"This is a place where I can be myself fully—without restrictions. I want to show you a new side of me. You're the only person I'd be this vulnerable with… especially when everything comes crashing down."
"What's crashing down?"
"School." The word alone makes me freeze. "But I don't want to focus on that today," he adds quickly. "Today is just about you and me."
"Okay." I squeeze his hands. "Let's take our time today. Share more about ourselves… and eat."
He laughs. "What are you smiling at, Adah?"
"Nothing." He wipes a tear from his eye as he laughs. "You just looked pretty when you laughed."
"Do you know what you do to me when you look at me like that?" he whispers. "And when you shower me with compliments—it sends me into ecstasy.
He lowers his head, his face close to mine. Something warm and sweet enters my mouth. I feel like I'm floating.
"This is our family's special milk chocolate," he says. "The only non‑mint item in this factory."
"Do you sell it at your other factories?" I ask, chewing the soft, velvety chocolate.
"No. It's not for sale. But I hope you enjoyed it."
"It's lovely—the texture is amazing. People would go crazy for it if you sold it."
His smile widens. "If you liked that piece so much, I think you'd enjoy the others too."
We walk through the factory as he tells me more about himself, also giving me space to speak. This place mirrors everything I said about mint chocolate—its history rooted in love and family. It feels like Joel: warm, safe, joyful.
By the time we leave, my hands are full of souvenirs and chocolates, and for a moment the weight surprises me—not unpleasant, just a little overwhelming. I remind myself that I don't have to carry everything alone.
"Joel, are you sure I don't need to pay for any of this?"
"I'm sure."
"I took a lot of chocolates—"
"I'm really sure, Adah. And you can always come back for more."
"Really?"
"Really. Just don't eat too much—we still need lunch."
The pavement is crowded with tourists and locals. Café's buzz with chatter, long lines forming outside their doors. We stop in front of a restaurant that doesn't look open yet.
"Joel, you finally arrived. What took you so long?"
It's his grandmother—and his grandfather.
"This is Adah Nsoh, my date," Joel says. "Grandma, you already met her at the factory. Adah, this is my grandfather, Joshua Sali."
"Hello," I say.
He smiles—a smile just like Joel's. "You must be the girl he's been talking about for the past two years."
"Grandpa—" Joel groans, embarrassed.
"Don't tease him too much," his grandmother laughs. "Come in—it's cold outside. Welcome to our restaurant, Adah."
Inside, photographs line the walls. "Our family owns several businesses," his grandfather explains. "The Sali Factory, the SJ Restaurants—named after me and my wife, Sarah—and our film studio. Gami‑Studio."
"Wait," I say, stunned. "You own Gami‑Studio?"
"Yes," Joel says. "My grandparents started it. My mom expanded the restaurant chain."
I nod as he speaks, smiling, but my chest tightens just a little. Not from fear—just from the sudden realization of how much surrounds him. History. Family. Roots.
"That's incredible. Joel, have you ever been in the studio while they animate?"
"Do you enjoy animation, Adah?" a voice asks behind me.
"I'm Joel's father, Jeremiah Sali. But I suppose you already know that," he says chuckling.
"I love animation," I say, smiling.
"Then why haven't you invited her over more often?" his mother asks, joining us.
More relatives gather. Joel exhales. "Mom… we should sit down."
I lean toward him. "Your family is kind. I think I'll like them."
Relief washes over his face. "I'm glad."
A mint chocolate factory—
once a refuge from fear, a safe place.
A heart opening—
heavy with emotion.
He fears it,
yet holds me gently.
Long ruminations.
A perfect day.
An abundance of people.
A strong first impression—
fascinating.
Breathe and take it in.
You're not alone.