In A Dream
(I hope not to wake from)
Our second date, we had planned to go to the park for a walk, to throw the frisbee, and maybe dinner afterwards.
She let me know that day that she wanted to cancel our plans... to invite me to her place for dinner, a movie, and a bottle of wine.
We didn't eat much dinner.
We never got to the movie.
We didn't even make it that far into the wine.
That makes it sound wilder than it was - and it wasn't like there wasn't some romance - but for almost all that time, we talked. Talked, and laughed, and commiserated, and joked, and whispered, and learned. We talked about basketball and injuries and Kennywood and haunted houses and family trips and religion and hobbies and stuffed animals and height and family resemblance and school kids and Blades of Glory and houses and writing and scrapbooks and seasons and - blessedly - being yourself. Truly, truly your self. Just writing the words has my head whirling.
I e-mailed her today, the next day. She sent back a voicemail, and an e-mail, both utterly wonderful. The e-mail, though, was glorious. In it she wrote, " I love being myself around you. I feel more alive."
Wow.
This post really needs to be predecessed by all the bizarre connections that we have found out about since meeting each other. It's... uncanny isn't even the right word. It's amazing. At times, we won't even like the same things, but her tastes compliment mine, in a way that I could never describe, writer or no.
I spent 30 minutes working with my boys about what to wear on the date, which is 29 more minutes than I usually take at most.
I couldn't sleep for an hour afterwards.
I planned to stay to 10 or so, and got back just before 1.
I am reeling, and loving it.
Our second date, we had planned to go to the park for a walk, to throw the frisbee, and maybe dinner afterwards.
She let me know that day that she wanted to cancel our plans... to invite me to her place for dinner, a movie, and a bottle of wine.
We didn't eat much dinner.
We never got to the movie.
We didn't even make it that far into the wine.
That makes it sound wilder than it was - and it wasn't like there wasn't some romance - but for almost all that time, we talked. Talked, and laughed, and commiserated, and joked, and whispered, and learned. We talked about basketball and injuries and Kennywood and haunted houses and family trips and religion and hobbies and stuffed animals and height and family resemblance and school kids and Blades of Glory and houses and writing and scrapbooks and seasons and - blessedly - being yourself. Truly, truly your self. Just writing the words has my head whirling.
I e-mailed her today, the next day. She sent back a voicemail, and an e-mail, both utterly wonderful. The e-mail, though, was glorious. In it she wrote, " I love being myself around you. I feel more alive."
Wow.
This post really needs to be predecessed by all the bizarre connections that we have found out about since meeting each other. It's... uncanny isn't even the right word. It's amazing. At times, we won't even like the same things, but her tastes compliment mine, in a way that I could never describe, writer or no.
I spent 30 minutes working with my boys about what to wear on the date, which is 29 more minutes than I usually take at most.
I couldn't sleep for an hour afterwards.
I planned to stay to 10 or so, and got back just before 1.
I am reeling, and loving it.
posted by Mat | 4:20 AM
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