After the Date

The short version: It went well.  Really well. I really like this guy.  We went out again on Sunday in a more casual sense (a local festival) and we’ve made tentative plans to get together again this weekend.

The long version:  It was quite lovely.  And if it says anything, I actually let him into my apartment after our second date.  I don’t usually do that.
After dinner during the first date, neither of us wanted to just go home.  So we ended up going to a theater, getting late tickets to “The Conjuring” (he likes horror, thank goodness), and hanging out at the bar while we waited.  I had a small glass of something, but limited myself.  He actually only had a small beer.  I was impressed after previous awful dates where they’ve practically bathed in alcohol.

We didn’t kiss on the first date, which was something that sort of bummed me out (yeah, I’m a slut).  Then he texted me and confessed that he was worried about the awkward mechanics of a first kiss in a car (it was at my request that he didn’t walk me to my door- I was worried about Zoe barking and waking up my brother who’s staying with me) and wanted to save it for when we were actually standing/sitting in a less awkward position.  It made complete sense.

Then we went out again Sunday to a festival.  And kissed.  And he doesn’t suck (unlike my last awful dating attempt).  It was really nice.  My coworker Hannah met him at the festival.  She says she approves and likes him.

I really. Really. Like him.

I already added him on Facebook.  Early for me.  He’s already said super nice things about all my awful/goofy ancient pictures.

I broached some mental-health stuff.  Mostly just depression and some family history type things.  Nothing extreme.  He was surprisingly receptive.

Anyway, I could go on and on but I’m worried about jinxing it and I need to save some for later anyway.

So yeah.  Good date.  I’m happy.  Things are pretty rolling right now.

Just crossing my fingers it stays this way.

Date

I have a date tonight.

I am trying not to freak out.

I haven’t had a date in a couple months now.  And surprisingly, I really really like this guy.  Like, more than the dumb dating website creepos.

We met at the local dog park I take Zoe to.  He has two shepherd mixes that are adorable (and smitten with Zoe).

We’re going to this local pub-burger-type place.  Supposedly famous for excellent food, though I’ve never been there.

Unfortunately, it’s a Pepsi place, but we’ll survive.  We had a long conversation about how Coke is better.  Glad he agrees on that important detail.

Anyway, I’ll update you guys if I can.  I also have a doctor’s appt tomorrow morning, so there may be a bit of a delay.

Wish me luck!

Date

I have a date tomorrow.

With this guy I barely know.

Dunno why I’m doing it, really.  I think I’m trying to prove to myself that I can still manage normal.

I don’t really feel like dating or having a relationship at all.  But I currently have no single friends and it’s really hard to hang out with them and only hear “couple talk”.  I hate it.

I know this date tomorrow is cowardly and self-destructive and stupid and meaningless.  And completely unfair to the guy.  And I can’t find it in myself to care.

I think I’m in a story where I’m the villain.

I’m not really sure who the hero’s supposed to be.

Maybe they’ll win eventually and I won’t have to deal with all this anymore.

I think I’d like that.