I floated through work that Tuesday. I freely admit that I was not firing on all cylinders. I floated about three feet off the ground, and I could not keep that shit-eating grin off my face. I had that good of a time.
By the bus home from knit night, however, I couldn't stand it anymore. I missed tall, dark, and handsome. So, I texted him, and that made the bus ride far, far more enjoyable than usual. Apparently, he missed me, too.
And much the same thing happened on Wednesday, except he couldn't stand it anymore and texted me. That bus ride home was just fine, and when I was safely ensconced in the house with a glass of wine, I called him.
And we talked. About everything, again, even venturing into politics. We like the same party colours. Whew!
We made arrangements to get together on Friday night.
On Friday night, he had a dinner, and I was at home, talking on the phone, when he called to tell me he was home for the evening. I didn't hang up on my friend, but instead held the land line in my hand as I spoke on my cell.
Apparently, I was all giggly and girlish. Yuck. I hate it when I do that. My friend happened to be sitting on her front step, and as she rang off, saying "Go! Have sex!" a random stranger was walking down the street and nearly tripped. She explained the situation, and then phoned my back to tell me that strangers in another city also want me to have sex. Good to know, I thought.
But, there was a bus in 20 minutes, so I got on it, and when I got off the bus downtown, he was there waiting for me. With his car. Because he didn't want me to walk downtown in the dark. I was completely, utterly blown away, both by his thoughtfulness, and his presumption that I couldn't walk three blocks by myself at 9 pm. However, this was not the time for a lecture, so I concentrated on the romance.
After a quick stop for beer (of course!) it was more of the same... talking, listening to music. Dancing. At one point, he looked straight at me, and said that he wanted to know what was going on... that this was so strange, and so intense, and unlike anything he'd ever experienced. He wondered what would happen.
I sat up straight, composed myself, and told him, straight out, that I hated to define things, that I disliked labels, because labels are too confining, that I wasn't good at monogamy, or indeed long-term relationships, period. But all that said, I thought that I wanted him to be my boyfriend.
He said that he loved me. And, I've got some serious good karma, because I managed not to laugh. I just said, "I know."
And that was that. Tall, dark and handsome is too long to write, so henceforth, he shall be Mustache Man.