When I was walking to meet you at the bar, I was shaking. I was so nervous that I tripped on my shoe as I walked by Lauriol Plaza. I think someone in line laughed at me. (Sure, I may have tripped, but in an hour I’ll have forgotten about it and she’ll still be waiting for a table at the most overrated restaurant in Dupont Circle.)
When I walked in, you were staring at me. I was staring at you. You had a drink waiting for me. Did I tell you how unbelievably sweet that was? I didn’t? I’m not so slick. Sometimes I forget to say simple things like, “Thank you.”
I tripped again trying to sit at the table. As we were talking, thoughts flooded my head – the anticipation of receiving an email from you…shaking when I’m near you…biting my lip when I think about kissing you…knowing that it’s true when they say that the last guy bailed because something better really was around the corner.
The length of time we have been emailing has been a very slow procession to an eventual meeting. The length of time you hovered at my lips before kissing me was the proverbial slow dance of this friendship so far.
We left the bar and went to your place to watch a movie. At this juncture, with just about any other man, I would have been protesting to stop unbuttoning my jeans. It would be an aggravating time where the guy would see my coming back to his place as a definite signal and me wondering why “let’s go watch a movie” doesn’t really mean “let’s go watch a movie.” I say what I mean and I mean what I say. But I digress…
Then I fell asleep. For two hours! You cleaned the bathroom. You read a New Yorker. You watched me sleep. When you woke me up, you told me what you busied yourself with, while I slept. I laughed at the prospect of you cleaning the bathroom. You said that you wanted it to be clean for me if I used it. You said I looked like an angel when I slept. An interesting dichotomy from my other persona.
I sleepily got in a cab and went home. We talked on the phone. You wanted to know when you could see me again. I asked when you would want to. You said, “In an hour.”
That hour is up. I have a date with someone else tonight and I don’t know what to do about that. I don’t know at all. I’m back to biting my lip.
There’s something else – You make my heart race.
Kisses and couch naps,
Update – 2 hours after I posted the above. I got the following email from CL#6 regarding tonight’s date: Hey, you’re going to hate me, but I’m going to have to postpone tonight. I’ll tell you about it later.
Ladies and gents…fate is a mysterious thing.