First Date, Full of Grace

 

OMG did you know there are guys who live BY THEMSELVES?! And you can just, like, go over there? Amazing.

Last Friday night, after work, I packed up some buttery chardonnay and some chips and drove ONLY NINE MINUTES for a couch date. It felt good to put on a cute bra, a low-key cozy-cute outfit, and nighttime lipstick! It felt so uplifting to just go talk to a cute stranger about whatever.

He was nice, and looked like he had lovely spankin’ hands, but he said something immature about my body that let me know this wasn’t the right guy for me.

And again, just like back at the heated blankets, a Shy One memory came like a visitation, only he’s not a ghost. The imprint was a clear rectangle of movie light on my soul. The way The Shy One used to move up my body with kindness and grace. With attention to detail. Married-guy ease and talent that I wanted to send Mrs. Shy One a thank you note for. A care I think I have to describe as dad energy. He took care of me. And now he’s taking care of me by being gone.

Back in real time, I hugged the nice but too-boyish thirty-something goodbye and realized it might be a while. Now that the push and pull and tears and hotness and dizzying affection of The Shy One are over (Have been over for a whole moon cycle.) my body, heart, and soul have time to understand what’s happened to us.

As I felt that time and space yawn out before me, I felt joy and relief and deep praise, from the top of my thoroughly beloved head to my driving-home toes.

I called BFF on the way home to brag about this date that hadn’t worked out, or had, in its own way. I felt giddy, sparkly, in a bubble of golden peace. (Don’t worry, I only had one glass of wine!)

Cozy in bed, I listened to the rain and wind outside, just wailing and spattering and gusting. I felt alive with the weather. I felt loved. I felt home.