The weeks went by and I have to admit that I thought about the guy often. We didn't have a text relationship though with a date two in sight, I felt secure. I also received an unexpected late night text commenting on the merits of our conversations. By the time the date was approaching, I reached out and inquired about plans and he responded a day later saying he'd figure something out. Not seeming too eager, I replied a few hours later with a recommendation. This was the day before the date.
On the day of, I still hadn't received a reply with a place or time. I slowly started to panic. The ball was quite clearly in his court and I didn't want to press the issue if his feelings went in another direction. I waited. And waited. And waited some more. Nothing. My granny bedtime was approaching and I had heard nothing about the night. I have to admit that I was pretty upset; even the gym couldn't console me. I went home and started to dig my plot in my front yard. Here lies Promise. Died in the emptiness of an unsent text. I listened to Adele (lord, bad choice) and when he finally reached out an hour before he expected to meet, I was beyond bitter. I didn't want to go, but I wanted to rip the band-aid as soon as possible so I could move on.
En route, I stewed. Arriving early at the restaurant, I stewed. This asshole had it coming. He showed up in a suit, straight from the office. That anger? Subsided almost immediately. Did he have to wear a suit so well? Looks aside, he relayed his hellish work schedule that week and I commented that I was surprised we even met. Based on the timing of his text, I was already mourning his loss. He countered with, "we made a plan weeks ago." Ok, yes, he had a point, but how often are women disappointed when a guy doesn't follow through? I suppose my prior experiences already set him up for failure. He genuinely wanted to see me and though he had a particularly intense week, he made the time.
Don't worry, I didn't let him off the hook for the poor planning. He assumed my text asking about work time meant that we'd be meeting after 8. I said I was waiting on a time and place. I guess we're going to have to get to know each other's tendencies at some point. With his hand on my back, he assured me that seeing me was important. I let that guard slip again and said that I was only disappointed because I had looked forward to seeing him. Being mutually transparent is so refreshing.
We finished dinner and continued our date at a bar nearby. He was so easy to talk to that I spoke my mind freely and we even broached the all-taboo politics topic. He looked at me seriously and gave me the most important compliment I could ever receive; he told me I was one of the most intelligent people he's met. I cannot fully represent the weight of his words. He then verbalized everything that he intuited about me. And he was spot on. It took my therapist years.
As we continued, he asked me when we'd move on from a cheek kiss (date 1). I was taken aback. I lacked all ability to hide my blushing emotions and he followed asking me about kissing in public. Now, college was proof enough that a good bar make-out could rarely be missed, but in my older years. I generally avoided it. Till then. After a totally tasteful kiss, I found myself grinning. There went that rule.
He asked about my weekend plans and scheduled our next date. I stayed out till almost midnight on a school night. Did I like this guy? The post-date sidewalk kissing session certainly implied so. I couldn't stay mad. At all.
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