1/30/09 - Date Twelve: Better than BEST DATE EVER

Guys, I'm nervous about this one. He has completely and totally invaded my brain and every day since I've met him I have been painfully preoccupied with when I'm going to be seeing him again. Ok, it's been less than a week. And I certainly don't really know this person very well. But I do know that I feel supremely comfortable with him and am sure that he is a good person, who might actually be a normal, functional adult person. And I can barely wait to see him again ... 

Last night the plan was to go to this funky little restaurant down the street from my place. And when I say down the street, I literally mean four blocks. He told me that he was going to pick me up which I almost protested because I could've more easily walked and met him there but then thought better of it, as I haven't been picked up by someone in a really long time and it's very sweet that he offered. He called when he got to my building and I excitedly rushed down the hall to the front door, floating, I was so happy that in a matter of seconds I would see him. He was there, waiting on the sidewalk near his car. 

Hi. 

Hi. 

Kiss. Little peck on the lips that sent shivers up and down my middle. 

He opened the car door for me and held my hand as I awkwardly navigated the ice covering the ground between the sidewalk and the car door. We drove around a bit looking for parking, he talked to me about his day, I told him about mine. We walked to the place, checked in for our reservation, and then headed to the bar upstairs to have a drink. I bought the first round and we sat under some heat lamps, just talking, laughing, mooning over each other. I told him that I really wanted to make him dinner sometime (after he told me that his dinner the previous evening was comprised of the following: cheese curls, cereal, a chocolate bar and some other random something that I can't remember ... these things do not a meal make) and asked him when this could happen. He said tomorrow? As in tonight. I said ok and there it was. I'm seeing him again tonight and again, I can't wait. We got the call that our table was ready and he carried my drink for me down the stairs. I swooned. I've never had anyone even think of doing that but he just did it and it made me feel so ... I don't know ... appreciated? Cared for? Acknowledged? All those things. It made me feel like a lady out for an evening with a gentleman. This is how all dates should feel, by the way. 

We were seated, ordered, shared stories over a delicious appetizer and two amazing entrees. We tried each other's food and then ordered dessert. An amazingly decadent toffee cake with a little dollop of fresh whipped cream sitting on the side. He fed me. I fed him. Holding hands across the table ... it was perfect. 

We moved on and decided to get one last drink before calling it a night. We walked out of the restaurant and stood at the corner waiting for the light to change and I turned to him to say something and he kissed me. He put his arm around me and we walked together, as close as could be, to a little bar across the street. We had one drink. The entire time we were there, he was holding my hand across the table, caressing my fingers. 

We walked out after paying the bill and he stopped me on the sidewalk and kissed me again, this time for a little bit longer, holding me close. Swooning, heart aflutter. I couldn't believe that I was in this moment with this person feeling so comfortable and excited and happy. We got in the car and he kissed me again. He drove me to my house, double parked and walked me to my door. We probably stood outside for 15 minutes kissing goodbye. I thanked him for dinner and he told me no thanks were necessary - he got to sit across the table from me. He told me that I made him lose track of time (he actually told me this a couple times through the course of the evening). I told him that I couldn't wait to make him dinner and needed his address. He said he would send it to me. We parted at midnight and I was absolutely flying. Flying. 

At 12:30, when he arrived home, I received 4 text messages detailing exactly how to get to his house. And a lament that he wished he was still on my sidewalk. I wrote back that I wished he was, too. 

Guys, again, I'm nervous about this one. I like him VERY much. I hesitate to make predictions so I won't. I hesitate to look very far into the future for fear of this turning out like every other relationship I've had so far in this process and me then feeling disappointed. So, here and now, I resolve to enjoy this wonderful, polite, adult, stable, beautiful man. I resolve to be open and honest with him, to take him for what he is, and to see where this goes, not forcing it to go the direction I want it to go, but rather to let it evolve as it will. 

I'm leaving out tons of details of great little things that happened on this date, I'm sure ... but I am lost. The picture of last night in my mind's eye is dreamy, fuzzy, blurred. It is all blended into a wonderful, warm, pink glow of candles on dinner tables, his beautiful voice telling me that he doesn't want to think about why he feels so at ease with me, and the promise of tonight.