You Really Are Amazing (Part 1)
I got a text that shattered me after a great first date.
Details? I’d met this guy about a month before when I was walking down a hallway. My inner control freak was so thrown by my uncontrollable, visibly-intense-body-jolt when I saw him for the first time… that I struck up a conversation with his friend.
I couldn’t quite vocalize it:
I recognize bits of myself in him—parts wild and more evolved.
Most substantially, I saw he was a good person. And there was the little detail that he was so attractive, I could hardly breathe.
For about a week, it was clear he felt the same way. Then, for more weeks, it wasn’t.
… Which is to say, MyDate and I hung out several near-consecutive days when we met. He also promptly bought a book I’d written. When I didn’t hear from him for some weeks after that, I figured he’d either gotten busy or didn’t like what he’d read.
Either way, said my internal voice, he just not that into you.
Bummer, but oh well. I let our initial connection go.
Several weeks later, there he was again.
In that time, MyDate hadn’t just read my book; he’d committed important details — specific phrases, particular facts—to memory. He even had a favorite line. Needless to say, I was stoked…
Fast-forward several weeks.
We’ve had our first date. I sit on my couch as he drives back home…
I’d totally chickened out and didn’t kiss him.
At that point, we’d gotten to know each other pretty well — at least, as well as two people can know each other after their first date. In our case, we’d gotten acquainted in some serendipitous and surprising ways. Case in point:
MyDate sometimes had reason to be at my office and confessed that he’d observed my work-break dance walks FOR SEVERAL MONTHS.
For those curious, I’m referring to the time of day where I:
- Realize I’m going a little office crazy
- Put on my BRIGHT coral tennis shoes
- Tie their lavender laces
- Don headphones
- Put on some Queen Bey, Gryffin, Martina McBride, or The Naked & Famous… pick your joyful poison
- And two-step and/or booty shake
- As I walk the office perimeter
- … And break out into song
Apparently, he’s watched me… multiple times.
(?!??!?!?!?!?! s t a l k m u c h ?!?!?!?!!!)
Fun fact: I was only allowed to listen to Christian music before I was 16.
I’d sneak a hand-held tape player/radio in my bedroom; stand my middle school self up on chair, positioned just so; and teach myself how to dance in front of the mirror.
These events may or may not have included twerking.
But back to MyDate, the beautiful creeper, who also loves to dance and travel alone AND who rides his motorcycle like a freaking devil, which I freaking love. Even at 1000 mph that night, I still felt safe.
(and got to touch him)
Y AAAA S SS SSS SSSS .
God, I hope he’s like this in bed.
Summary? It was a good first date.
As I sat on the couch, we flirt some more over text. I imply I want to ride the motorcycle again, then realize I’m tired and get up.
… Brush my teeth,
… Wash my face.
By the time I’m ready for bed, he still hasn’t responded.
Hmmm, I think as I go to sleep. I know he had fun, too. Did I send the message too soon? Was it too forward? Too direct? (Momma did always say to play hard to get.)
Several hours later, I woke up and read this text:
I hope I didn’t press too much tonight with my questions.
(He’d asked a lot of personal ones, which sometimes made me a little uncomfortable. I think he was trying to correlate why I didn’t kiss him.)
You really are amazing. I’m just so curious to find out more about you and where it all comes from.
When picturing this moment, I hope you assume I felt wonderful. I hope you assume I got giggly.
I hope you feel confused when I tell you that my first reaction to reading this text… was fear.
And then something different, deeper.
It was the same feeling from when I said I wanted to go on another date.
The same feeling that came up several weeks later, when he texted just to say he was thinking about me.
And a week after that, when he emailed to say: Oh, and I think you’re absolutely beautiful.