January 1st, 2012:
I saw your profile, was intrigued, and thought that you would never be interested in me- so I passed you by. No message, no smile, no wink- nothing. Hours later, I was surprised to find that you’d messaged me. I was flattered, and a little suspicious.
We messaged, we texted, we talked for two weeks. So much in common, such a shared perspective, a common goal. It was easy opening up to you. And I hoped. One of us asked to meet, but I can’t remember who it was that put it out there; I think it may have been me.
Friday, January 13, 2012:
I remembering thinking that the date might not be the most auspicious time to meet, but I was heading to my sister’s for the weekend and didn’t want to wait any longer. We met at a wine bar close to where you worked and kinda on my way to my sisters. I was a little early, as I am often am, you were a little late, you you often were. I don’t recall being nervous- perhaps anxious, excited to meet you in person. I sat there guessing what it would be like and how it would go. Would we shake hands upon meeting, would it feel like a date or just meeting a friend after years apart?
I was wearing the black pull-over that everyone told me made me look good, my favorite blue jeans, and my brown leather boots. I’d taken care to make sure my hair was in order, my breath fresh, and my outlook upbeat. I sat at a two-top, facing the door, wondering if you would look like your profile pictures, drinking my ice water.
When you walked in, I smiled. You wore that checkered dress shirt that made you look smart and lean; I loved that shirt. And there was something in the air between us and I just knew. Maybe it was the way you smiled. Or the warmth when you approached. It felt like we had known each other for a long time and that we were just catching up. The discovery of things once known long ago but seemingly new. We were electric.
Four hours later, I had to pull myself away. I had an hour drive still and while I wanted to stay and continue, I had to leave. The conversation had been so easy, the flirting so natural, the mutual interest so readily apparent. We parted with a promise of a second date, and I didn’t question if it would happen, just a matter of when. And I missed you, when I left. Things seemed less bright without you around.
On my drive, I called my sister- despite the fact that I was heading to her house -and told her that I’d just had the perfect date. And even then, I knew that I would love you and that you would love me. I knew that I would call you the next day and make sure that the second date got schedule…and it did.
I hold on to the feeling that I had that night. The sense of promise, the potential between us, the brightness of two people searching for love and acceptance.