vulnerability

Today I’m being reminded that I’m too damn old to be out so late, but last night when Mike and I were on our second date it felt like time was just standing still. I felt invincible, wide awake, I didn’t want to go home. He didn’t either.

We started off around 830 with drinks at a Mexican place. I’d planned to eat – was starving – but we just kept talking and talking and talking and the chips, salsa and cheese dip were totally ignored, as was the idea of ordering food. I didn’t even notice it until 2 hours later when they were trying to close down and we were the last people hanging around, very much oblivious to our surroundings.

Next we headed to the super cliche date place – Intermezzo – and I ONLY suggested it because I knew they’d be open late and it was close to where we were. I hate that place for the most part and would quickly frown upon someone (a date, I mean) suggesting it, but now I kinda see why it’s such a good idea. I had a cup of coffee with butterscotch schnapps and Frangelico. It was fabulous and probably gave me the kick I needed to keep going.

The night was perfect. The date was perfect. And while I found myself feeling slightly self-conscious of how giddy I was feeling and knowing it was pretty darn obvious, I tried hard to just be myself and not try to act a certain way. I tried to not analyze the way he was looking at me or if I was talking or smiling too much. I tried to remain relaxed and just enjoy it all and not wonder if this was supposed to feel so good or if it was all just in my head. Ever the analyst, it took a lot of effort on my part.

But our compatibility is undeniable and the conversation was almost too good to be true. I haven’t had the kind of conversation we had last night in ages…and when we got to the 3rd place – a crappy hole bar we chose because it was open and we were still not about to call it a night – it took an even bigger turn to something I can’t say for sure I’ve ever experienced. We’d been talking politics, so I’m not sure how we got to the topic of relationships, but suddenly this adorable, baby-faced man sitting across from me started opening up to me about his failed marriage, how he’d been cheated on and that it had taken him a good part of the past four years to get over how it made him feel. He told me how scary it was to him to be vulnerable again and how he’d lost so much confidence when it happened.

I think I was dumb struck listening to him from across the table. He wasn’t drunk, so it wasn’t the liquid courage, and I’ve known him for so long now but had no idea of these things. As he talked about how it made him feel, how it changed him, how it made him fear relationships for a long time a lot of things I’ve known about him over the past couple years just started to make sense. And him opening up and making himself vulnerable to me at that moment made me feel so comfortable, trusting, at ease that I actually felt myself let out a sigh of relief. I felt at that moment that it was ok to be vulnerable back and not try to sabotage myself in the situation out of fear. It was a big deal.

Then today arrives, and as I write this I feel that fear a little. The one that comes when you just don’t want to risk falling for someone and looking like an idiot if you were wrong. Sure, nothing that happened made me think this could be the case, but there’s always that what if. Do I want to put myself out there again? And why does “take it slow” seem to reverberate in my head, but yet seem like such a hard reality? Knowing him for so long probably intensifies it, as we don’t have to go through a lot of the just meeting someone stuff, but doesn’t that just make it scarier? Isn’t it putting more on the line a lot sooner when you get deep so quickly?

I got home at nearly 6am this morning after Mike and I made out in his car like teenagers for 2.5 hours. Yeah, I’m single and I have my own place and we totally could have gone there. But it was the sweet innocence of sitting there kissing him for hours on end knowing that was all it could be that made it a little more exciting. I wanted to take him home with me – don’t get me wrong. But it wasn’t the right time for that, we agreed, and yet we still didn’t want to part.

I like him. Even though that’s such a scary thing to say. I like him.

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