Dating : Saturday, March 28

♀:

I met Colin 12 days ago and in that amount of time:

– We had a 3-hour first date where we laughed off my being an hour late. I couldn’t stop starring at his smile on the swing at Loro. We talked openly about our past lives, loves, current selves. He told me about his kids and it’s the first time something of that magnitude didn’t scare me. We walked and talked on a desolate Lamar backdrop. Got a little drunk, a little frisky at Golden Goose and he pushed me against my car with a kiss he expected to give — to lead — but I gave back. He told me I have a spotlight on me, and that made me smile and feel special, understood.

– We unfolded pretty naturally from there and started hanging out at my place. Date two was talking, tarot card reading, making him a Negroni, making out. I tried to hold back, even though underneath I was decked in lace for unwrapping.

– Time warped with him. Date three felt like date 10. He showed me his art and we planned a project together, I made better Negroni’s, we went to a casino I would never go to without him but it was fun, although it’s dubious if I caught a stomach bug there :-). He got Taco Bell that I froze for him. I think our drastically different eating habits are kind of cute. We went upstairs and had the type of sex that foreshadows better sex. Lots of it. There’s such a sense of adventure, attraction and pull between us. And jeeessssus lawd, he is concerned with my pleasure too 🧞‍♂️. I haven’t gone a day without a fantasy with him in it. With the intensity, I do worry that I could push my limits too far with him. This is sometimes on my mind.

– I got crazy siiiickkkkk with a stomach but the day after that I thought was either the sex or a hangover. Then a fever started. He was really empathetic. He was on his way to take care of his mom in Houston (❤️) and I worried he could expose her to Covid if I was sick.

– Mind you, ^ all of this dating was transpiring amid a pandemic that was crippling our world. Our first date was the last night restaurants were open. By our third, Italy and China had been ravaged, mass graves were making rounds in the media and the US government was beginning to issue shelter-in-place and social distancing orders as it became the next hotbed.

– What a time to be alive, and we’re traversing the territory of the heart amid it! I wouldn’t do this for just anyone.

– When Colin came back from Houston I was still recovering from the weird stomach thing that last way too long and was probably exacerbated by shifting my habits to shelter in place, too much media consumption, and watching the world implode from COVID compounded by the stress of my family denying it. Seeing him was so good but it hit me hard that we needed to take the sequester seriously to help with containment.

– As much as I wanted to have him start spending the night, exploring each other’s habits, bodies — this meant pausing all of that.

– I worried he wouldn’t be game. That we could fall out of touch. Because he likes touch. He is sexual. So am I. But it’s more than that — there’s kinetics between us that need energy.

– Nevertheless, we exchanged that, at least temporarily, for walks, shooting photos in the street, listening to Depeche Mode, hanging out in my backyard. Exploring each other minds and testing our will power. Giving up sex as our civic duty. I’m telling you, this shit better save some lives!!!

– Yesterday, he made me one of his paintings and delivered it with a “you, rock”. Cute. Creative energy is such a good gift. I wish I could open my place for him and cook.

There are a million little things we did, said, and gained that this first post leaves out. Distilling all that nuance, what I’ve learned in 12 days is that Colin’s laughter has layers. It’s never not there — which is astounding — it just manifests in different forms.

He’s like a ball in a pinball machine, bouncing up against the impacts of the world, often quite literally, and ricocheting one-liners back. Maybe he lost some points in the holes, but what’s most important is that he doesn’t seem to keep score.

Checking in on my end, dating for the past two years has been filled with poor timing. Failed starts, moves, ambition, change and opportunity clouding the way. But could it be that time was actually on my side? Was time waiting to push me to a man actually worth my time?

What I know for certain is, I’ve got 12 days of data but I’ve never been less concerned with collecting data and more concerned with collecting moments than ever.

♂:

There is no way this woman is real. She agreed to meet me quickly, on a day that the quarantine was escalating. She is way too beautiful to be real. But just in case she is, I’m in. We were supposed to meet at a bar that is closed today, so a quick audible to another place she suggested, Loro. I sent her a message, no response, I’ll call and leave a message, nonresponsive. Well, I don’t want to seem to pushy, she will get it and show up. 15 minutes after, nothing. That’s okay, I knew the bartender, unexpectedly, sonata least I have a story to tell about being ghosted on a first date. 30 minutes, nothing. Then a text from her. Loro! Well, at least she got the audible. 45 minutes, nothing. Okay, check, please. This oddly creepy guy next to me must be laughing his ass off because he was the one that ghosted me. Let me send a nice text, just in case, she is real, done.

I get in my car and drive off. One minute later, “I am in the swing!” What? This has got to be that guy at the bar messing with me. Whatever, I am game, I’ll go back. I park and start walking up to the glass box that is Loro’s inside bar and there is only one woman at the bar, standing under the brightest light in the place; emphasizing all attention should be on her, as she has something very important to say to us. She matches the pictures that I just seconds ago glanced over to remind myself how beautiful my catfish could have been. I start my inner dialogue.

I somehow got the upper hand tonight because she is an hour late. This may be the last time you have such a thing, take advantage because she is way out of my league.

Conversation flows easy. We sat in the swing for a couple of hours, felt like moments. We shut down the place, as we were the only ones left, besides the chlorine heavy cleaning lady. I didn’t want to leave. I am recharged by this intellectual woman sitting next to me, with one of the most infectious smiles I have seen as an adult. We take a stroll down a very vacated Lamar and talk of important things. Walk into a proud dive bar and experience a look of interest from her from across the room that can not be mistaken. Things are going well. It is late and we finish up back at her car. (You missed the first kiss at the bar next to the dirt bikers, silly!)

The kiss has to match the intensity of the night. Obviously walk close enough to the car that I can lean her against it while I gently pin her to it, right hand softly wrapped around the side of her head, just tucked under her left ear. This was definitely a move of mine, she would later read at this moment. Not perfected by any means, but effective for sure. Energy is passing between us, pulling us together and dancing around our bodies. Open her door and wish her a good night. “Drive Fast, take chances” and close the door. Inner dialogue once again… “Okay, she still has all fingers and toes, I did not screw that one up. Good night amazing woman. We are a match.”

Date two was at her place. All of the bars and restaurants were now closed to help slow the spread of Covid -19. Are you freaking kidding me? The start of a pandemic at the start of what could be a natural and unusually easy to love relationship. Thanks, universe.

I digress. Her house. Conversation once again flowed from both our lips. Her laugh is just as wonderful as her smile. Resonating in my head as inspiration to be me again. Enjoy the moment and have fun again. The last relationship I have been in was tumultuous and constant work. Exhausting work from both parties that drained us both. This was refreshing, real, but most importantly understood. She established early that sex was for another day, so I will hold true to her spoken boundaries. The kissing though is electric and if I don’t leave tonight, soon, she and I will want to break that boundary, and it will be better if not. Good night laughter and smiles, we are still a match.

Date three, her place again. She improved upon her already good drink with a name I would not order at a bar. Simply because it would not be as good as these at this moment. Tonight is better than the previous two, a reoccurring theme it seems that will only trend upward. She calls me upstairs and we have unforgettable first-time sex that begs for more exploration upon return. As I am leaving though, her stomach begins to cramp, most likely as a result of going too deep during session 1:of too many to count. I feel terrible and want to hold her to take some of the cramping away if possible. She shuns me out of the door because after all, she is powerful in her own right and doesn’t need me. Good night exploration partner. The journey is underway.