You know that I went on a date with The Engineer, right? And that it was...different. He was shy and charming and smart and a perfect gentleman. We laughed and talked about so much including, faith and family. As hard as I tried, I couldn't find one thing wrong with him. He even asked me out on a second date before the first was over. When I told him that it'd have to be in the afternoon, he said that he was definitely thinking night. And thus, the "Friend Zone" was successfully dodged.
He cancelled our second date hours before it should have begun. The demon, skepticism, came out and I was sure it had less to do with car trouble and more to do with him not knowing how to bow out gracefully. The hour came when we would have been sharing a pizza and my computer pinged. It was him. IMing me. We talked for over an hour and I went to bed placated.
Monday came and he lamented having to go to his company's Christmas Dinner alone. Naturally I assumed that he would ask me to accompany him. (Who am I if not a girl that jumps to ridiculous conclusions?) In the end we both agreed that it was a lot soon to meet the people he worked with and he asked me if we could start again.
Only a fool would say no.
We've talked everyday and made plans for Thursday (tonight!). He promised to tell me where we were going so I'd know how to dress. But honestly? I'd already picked up on his vibe. It would be nice. Grown-up even. Like, shave-your-legs-and-wear-a-dress-in-the-winter worthy. I was super excited. Wednesday came and I still didn't know where we were going to have dinner so I asked. And he didn't respond. All. Day.
Panic crept in and made a home in my heart.
I told my sister, my therapist, the girls at work, the birds, and the rain that it was over. I had been played. How? I didn't know but I was sure that the fairytale was over and I would never date again. Then, my phone chimed.
It was him. He was on his way back from Cleveland - a short business trip - and wanted to see me that night! Could I be there by 7p? No. But definitely by 8. Or 8:05. It definitely would have been 8 if I hadn't needed to try on four different pairs of shoes before going with my black knee-high boots. He called at 8:02 to make sure I was OK. And was waiting outside, like a gentleman, to walk me in.
We sat and he made it known that this date was in addition to and not replacing the one planned for Thursday. And it went perfectly. We were able to have intellectual conversations and a mutual exchange of opinions. Plus, he thinks I'm "stunning". Even when I dropped food on myself at dinner, he told me that it was OK and I finally felt better when I saw a shower of rice fall from his lap.
He walked me to my car and I stood there willing him to kiss me. I honestly don't' think I could have wanted it any more than I did that very moment. I had to literally restrain myself from grabbing him when he said goodnight and turned to walk away. Instead, I yelled out, "Wait! Um, where are we going tomorrow?". He looked at me, looked at the sky, and fumbled around for words and then looked at me and then... he kissed me.
Just a little. Just a peck. But it was absolutely perfect.
And now I've got to get ready for tonight!