So last week, I had date number two with my … oooh, I am not quite sure what to call him really – an ex? The man up north? The one that got away? Anyway, we arranged to meet again as the first date went so well and he asked if he could take me out to dinner to one of our favourite restaurants. I actually fannied about for a while before deciding whether to agree or not because, as I said in my first post about this guy, it just feels like it could all be too good to be true and I wasn’t sure if I could put myself through the disappointment of it all falling apart.
I (metaphorically) grew a pair, manned up and agreed to the date. Twitter told me to, so I had no choice.
Again, I felt excited and nervous in the run-up to seeing him but did my best to keep any possible feelings of … well anything really, in check. (“She’s as cold as ice … la la la …”)
A quick side note. Because I haven’t explained a lot about my previous relationship, at least not yet, I guess it’s difficult to understand why I’m so hesitant about this guy, but just believe me when I say that I find the whole relationship thing scary as … a really scary thing. So if you feel like you want to grab me by the shoulders and shake me hard, please bear with me, because as much as I might be confident in many other areas of my life … when it comes to the L word, that’s another story completely.
Back to the date.
He drove down from ‘up north’ that morning, making sure he got the right county this time. I was at work all day and still had the routine of picking Dexter up, feeding him and getting him organised for the next day, before the babysitter turned up, who, I should point out, was actually someone I met on twitter who just happens to live around the corner from me and who very kindly stepped in when my regular babysitter couldn’t make it. I owe her!
I was finally ready by 7.30pm and, after taking this obligatory selfie …
… my date turned up on time. I looked out of the window and waved and I felt that familiar feeling of … of what exactly, I haven’t quite decided yet. Affection? Lust? Hope?
For a man that had just spent four hours in the car driving to my house, he looked remarkably relaxed and just as smart as last time – this time dressed in a gorgeous grey suit, white shirt and pink tie.
As I stepped out of the front door and walked towards him, he didn’t take his eyes off me. I lent my head through his open car window and gently kissed him on the lips, walked round to the passenger side making sure he got the best view possible!
We made our way to the restaurant, which is only a few minutes drive away, and he dropped me off at the front door so that I didn’t have to walk across the gravel driveway. As I stood waiting for him to park the car, I realised that it had been nearly a decade since we were last there. And it’s milestones and special moments like that that keep freaking the hell out of me!
Why can’t I just relax and enjoy the ride, so to speak!? Perhaps it’s just because this is the first time in a long time that this could actually lead to something?
We were taken to the terrace upstairs where we sat and shared a drink as the sun set. Yes it was that clichéd, but romantic as hell.
A beautiful three course dinner followed. We talked about the time we had spent together all those years ago and reminisced about what we had had as a couple. He shocked me by being totally honest about how upset he was following our split. I found that quite hard to take as it was never my intention to hurt him. Contrary to my (often) tough exterior, particularly when it comes to men, I’m actually quite a nice person. Promise.
When the bill arrived, I offered to contribute, as I always do, but he waved me away and generously paid for dinner. I held onto his arm as we left the restaurant because my high heels and the slippery wooden floor was a bad combination. He brought the car round for me again and we drove back to my house, both excited about what lay ahead but equally comfortable just being with each other.
My babysitter was under strict instructions by fellow (weirdo) Tweeters (you know who you are!) to make sure she got a good look at my date and reported back accordingly. My life is nothing but surreal.
She left, I made us a drink and we sat on the sofa (#sofa.) I think I probably complained about how my feet were aching after wearing high heels (good call Kate!) so he pulled my legs up onto his lap and gently unstrapped my shoes. My feet were marked by the shoe straps and again he gently rubbed my feet until they didn’t hurt any more. How about that for an analogy for a possible future relationship?!
Instead of rushing straight to bed, as tempted as we were, we just talked for the next two hours. And then he got out two brochures from his work bag that just happened to be full of wedding dresses.
I know, I know, all rather weird but I promise you it’s to do with his job and he didn’t just buy them especially. At least I hope not. We actually looked through the brochures together (standard,) and, as mad as it sounds, we sat there chatting, drinking and choosing what wedding dress would be perfect for me! Like it was the most normal thing in the world to do. I did point out I had no intention of ever getting married again, but it’s interesting to know that we actually both chose the same dress. Just for (possible) future reference! I kid, I kid …
Another side note. I’ve only ever introduced Dexter to one date in the 18 months I’ve been single. That guy was a friend who stayed in the spare room. But I knew tonight’s date would be staying over and so had pre-warned Dexter that we would have a guest.
We went to bed and he set his alarm for 5.30am so that he could move downstairs to the sofa before Dexter woke up. Except the alarm didn’t go off and, when I heard Dexter approach my room at 6am, I had to make sure that he wasn’t too shocked to see someone in my bed! The key was not to panic! So as Dexter opened the door I just whispered, “Don’t forget M stayed the night,” and then diverted his attention by saying he could use my laptop downstairs!
Thing is, Dexter is such a cool kid that he wasn’t phased. He knew I was going on a date, that I knew this man from many years ago and that he was going to stay the night so there were no real surprises. Other than my date was in my bed, which wasn’t part of the plan!
As we were all getting ready to go to work/school, Dexter went upstairs to where my date was putting his tie on in my bedroom. I watched from downstairs and watched what transpired.
I called up to Dexter that my date was up there and so Dexter walked towards him, hand outstretched, shook his hand and introduced himself. It was THE CUTEST THING. My date, who is, by nature, very softly spoken, said it was good to meet Dexter and that he’d heard a lot about him.
They sat on the edge of my bed for a few minutes just chatting. I swear to God, it was just SO sweet I thought my heart would break. Introducing someone to Dexter was a massive deal for me, regardless of where this relationship goes (or doesn’t.)
We all left at the same time and, ensuring no PDA’s occurred in front of Dexter, a quick peck on the cheek and my date was gone.
It was quite possibly the most perfect date.
So what next? I honestly don’t know. We’ve both been busy since the date and haven’t had a chance to discuss anything.
We know we like each other. That’s the easy bit. But I’m still pretty terrified by the whole thing if I’m honest. I don’t know if that’s ‘normal’ … I don’t know if I’m just being too careful.
But I do know that I want to see him again. A third date?