The Second Date, and Since Then

I have a wonderful boyfriend. True story. He’s like no one I’ve ever known, including myself, and yet we have a tremendous amount in common.

A few months after we met over a year ago, I opened up a little in this post, but have not felt comfortable writing much else while things developed between us. And of course I was having so much fun being in love that wasn’t thinking deeply enough about other things to write much.

But now I want to celebrate, share some of my appreciation for my special guy. I will start at the beginning.

He was my second online date, and we met mid-way between our cities on a warm, pouring-rainy July afternoon at a pub. He warned me that he no longer had the curls and beard of his profile photo, as he had cut it all off.

Heading out I was relaxed and had few expectations, unlike at my first date, because I had landed a date with a third fellow a few days hence, and had high hopes for that one. According to his profile, he too was attractive and intelligent, as well as closer to my age.

I got to the pub first, looked around to see that there was no date yet, peeled off my red rain shell and looked around the space, cozy with large reclaimed wood tables and a nearby bar. I recognized one of the bartenders and told him so, and we figured out that he had formerly worked at my town’s food coop. A real friendly face, which felt good.

As we chatted while he polished glasses, someone strode by on my left, and I knew it was him–short hair tending to curly, graying, 5’8″. He turned back to scan my side of the room, he saw me and his smile got bigger, and there he was, coming at me with a hug. I smiled, said “Hi–oh, a hugger,” or something, and was embraced. It was to be the first of many embraces.

It was an immediate maybe. This surprised me, and I liked the feeling.

I slid onto a bench, and he slid in beside me, explaining that he could hear me better that way if there was noise in the room. He ordered an IPA, I a black currant cider, and the date was I guess a typical getting to know each other kind of thing, punctuated by French fries and, for me, a spreading feeling of relaxation from the cider.

Before telling more, I need to back up a bit and explain why I clicked “like” on his dating side profile in the first place, and continued the email dialog he then started.

First, his profile was a fun read. It was kind of random, included that he was liked by most animals, and highlighted some creative projects rather than possessions or financial status. In our emails, he was lighthearted, creative, and had a quirky sense of humor. He showed interest without eagerness. He gave me his phone number in bot-proof form to foil the site’s data collection system, and he described his self-perpetrated haircut as a failure. He told me he made things in his shop that float and spin, and that he looked forward to meeting me and doubted that we would irritate each other.

So I was expecting to meet a neat guy who was probably beyond my age range (I had clicked like and then noticed the eight year difference).

Right now as I write, I’m thinking of his smile, then, coming obliquely and warm. I’m folding my hands, smiling to myself, and biting my fingers. In fact I can’t stop smiling. I really like him.

I was attracted. He was attracted. I liked his smile, his eyes, his hands, his personality. He gave back good vibes. I wondered quite early what it would be like to kiss him.

After our drink, as it had stopped raining, we took a stroll one the trail near the river, more small talk, and then parted with another hug. I said he might hear from me, that I had another date in a few days, and he wished me luck.

To be continued.