Perfect Birthday Date with The Shy One, Part Two

(As I sit down to type about this dreamy date, it’s a really, REALLY tough day here in polyland. I don’t think anyone ever died of being left out of a sexy, beachy, play party-y weekend, but it feels like I might.

I usually love my Saturdays to myself, love reading and taking walks and zoning out on my Animal Crossing island. I love listening to Nicole Wallace on a Saturday night to get riled up enough to fold the clothes. But today, nothing’s working. My brain just wants me to think about why they’re there and I’m not, how I’ll never find a real place in his life.)

Filet mignon. Lobster mac and cheese. Wine on my own since he hasn’t been drinking with me lately. Cheesecake with a birthday candle in it. Maybe I am a fancy date girl after all.

It’s strange being in such a wildly romantic context with a guy who doesn’t do PDA. Handholding had to express the whole bouquet of attractions and emotions, it’s pretty intense. We talked and schemed. I made him blush. I love the way his entire face glows when I tease him—the deep-seated smile, the twinkling eyes. Oh, the cheeks. I can’t even with this guy.

On the way home, the driver’s seat was too far back, so my legs wouldn’t fit on my side, they had to spill over onto The Shy One’s feet. Half a cuddle. More hand-holding. I felt swoony even though the music on the radio decidedly wasn’t, felt like I was looking at the moon even though I wasn’t. I closed my eyes and felt his hand softly on my arm. I opened them and saw the city lights, glowing in the twilight, the river reflecting the darkening sky.

Let’s just take a moment to say: I love him. I love him to the moon and streetlights and stars, from the river to the whole entire sea. I love him as sweet as birthday cheesecake and as special as wine. He hasn’t said the love thing yet, though the l-word snuck into a couple of GIFs last week, maybe by accident. But he does the love thing—he is love as a verb. He listens, he pets, he caresses, he reassures. He celebrates. Someday maybe he’ll say the thing, maybe I’ll wait forever. But for now, love as a verb.