It begins with a look. A look that leads to conversation, no big deal. It’s just conversation, you’ve had great conversation before and you’ve been disappointed, but deep inside you want to believe that maybe this time it will be different.
You share tidbits of your life, hoping you’re saying enough, worried you’re saying too much. You begin to feel the excitement. Who is this person? The desire to know more builds. You look forward to finding out if the mental stimulation is real so you schedule a date. Immediately nerves take over. “What should I wear? Where will we go? What will we do?”
The date day arrives. You get ready and as you consider the possibilities of the evening the butterflies begin to flutter. Nerves turn into excitement which turn back into nerves. Your phone rings and you see his name on your caller ID. “I’m on my way” he says. “Aaaaaagggghhhh” you scream in your head.
Within what seems like only minutes you hear the ring of the doorbell. You run towards the door, stopping just short of your destination. As you reach for the knob, you take a calming deep breath. You turn the knob, pull the door and there he stands just as you remember him. You breathe another sigh, this time it’s internal, this time it’s relief.
“Where are we going?” you ask. “You’ll see when we get there,” he responds. You smile, impressed. He made plans, he thought ahead. If this were a game, he’d be on the score board.
The evening is filled with great conversation, laughter and the definite sparks of electricity. You sit down to dinner and mid conversation he says, “You have beautiful eyes.” You look down in modesty and say thank you calmly, while inside you are giggling like a school girl. When you look back up at him he’s gazing at you and smiling with so much intensity that once again the butterflies begin to flutter. “Can I hold your hand?” he asks, and though you think it impossible, you feel a slight shock of electricity. The chemistry is undeniable.
Inevitably the time comes to call the evening done. You begin the drive home. It is filled with both more conversation and a nice, comfortable silence. You stop at a red light, he looks at you, you look at him. The intensity is overwhelming and the moment is perfect for the kiss. Another bolt of electricity, this one felt to the tip of your toes. The light turns, the drive continues. He takes your hand, this time he seeks permission with a smile and an oh so ever inaudible sigh.
You arrive home. He takes the hand he was holding, puts it to his mouth and kisses it and then leans to kiss you. Your mind is reeling with all of the stimulation to your senses. You say thank you, and goodbye and you just know in your mind that this time there will be a next time because a more perfect date was never had by anyone.
For a few days you’re on cloud nine, still convinced that this was something. That the connection and electricity you felt was mutual and that those things will lead you both to want to see where this will go. You continue to walk on air.
A few more days pass and you’ve come down from your high and begin to wonder what happened, where did he go. You begin to question yourself. “Before we went out he contacted me daily, I haven’t heard from him. This doesn’t feel right.” You begin to realize that just maybe the perfect date was all a dream. The analyzing begins and you try to figure out where it went wrong.
You put it out of your mind, because after all what else is there to do. You tell yourself to expect the worst because just like all other failed dates, it started with a conversation and you’ve had good conversations before and you’ve been disappointed before…