As our date was coming to a close, I walked a little closer to The Grown Up, briefly grazing his hand with mine. We made our way from the pub to the car, and I knew I was a little tipsy, but far from drunk. I was giggly. Honestly, I was probably fucking adorable. He HAD to be falling in love with me. How could he not?
The car ride home was the complete opposite of the car ride to the restaurant. We chatted the entire time. I’m pretty sure I did most of the talking, but it seemed so easy…and he appeared to appreciate my ridiculous quirks. He laughed at my bad jokes and cracked a few of his own that I’m sure most people would cringe at. It was the most natural thing in the entire world.
When he pulled into my parents’ driveway around 11:30 pm, I wasn’t ready to get out of the car. I wasn’t ready for this night to end. So I kept talking. And talking. And talking some more.
The Grown Up reached up to my neck and started gently running his fingers through my hair. I lost all control of my heart rate and started thinking, is he going to kiss me?
We kept talking. I moved a bit closer to make kissing me easier. He’s not going to kiss me, is he? Why isn’t he kissing me?
And then he blurted out something that seems so peculiar, and yet completely fitting.
“I’m not good with people,” he confessed. He’s definitely not going to kiss me. What the fuck? He keeps touching me as if he likes me…you know what? Balls out, Chrissy. Balls out.
I was thrown back for just a second before I responded, “That’s okay. Just be good with me.” And then I kissed him. And it was magical. We kept kissing forever. Was it five minutes? An hour? I couldn’t tell you. But do you remember those days? The dating and kissing, and JUST kissing for hours? I loved that. I needed that.
At some point, we resumed talking, with interspersed kissing. The Grown Up realized how late it was, and asked if I wanted to come home with him. Nevermind we had driven from a bar nearish his house back to my house which was in the opposite direction. Nevermind it was our first date. Nevermind he had to work the next morning. Nevermind every last bit of reason. Because wherever he was going, I was going too.
I confirmed that I would go, but I would NOT be banging him that night. It was just to sleep. And he agreed. I’d like to tell you it’s because I wasn’t that kind of girl. But really, it’s because I didn’t want to be that kind of girl. Not with him. There was something about him. I liked him. A lot. More than one should in the midst of a first date. But that didn’t matter because he liked me too. Well…at least he liked me at 1 o’clock in the morning when I was kissing him with fervent adoration…One could only hope that the feeling would continue through to morning, but only time would tell.
I ran into my house, grabbed a toothbrush and a few other essentials, and returned to the car with eager anticipation. I was going to see where this Grown Up lived. I was going to spend the night snuggled next to him. I was going to kiss him until I fell asleep. And I did all of those things. It was quite lovely. His room was small and just a little messy. But he didn’t share his room with anyone like a previous boyfriend. And he didn’t live with his grandparents like another guy I had dated. He was…a motherfucking grown up. We kissed some more and eventually fell asleep. I don’t entirely know how much sleep I got, but I slept in his arms the whole night…and for once, didn’t hate it. Who WAS this guy?
Best first date ever….hmmmm. Met her on Yahoo Chat in the days when it was cool to do so. Told her to dress casually and I would surprise her. Took her to a circus, which she liked. We talked a lot about families and such. I didn’t want the night to end, so we went out for drinks in her neighborhood. Just a clear, gorgeous 72-degree night. Sneakily grabbed the tab while she wasn’t looking. We walked around a bit, talking some more. She told me she broke off an engagement a few weeks before her wedding, which I found ballsy and impressive. We lingered near her car, said our good nights, and under moonlight and countless stars I cupped my hand behind her head, stroked her hair gently and kissed her. Once. Perfectly.
We went out on a disastrous second date and that was that. She left her umbrella in my car but told me to keep it rather than ever seeing me again.
Magical kissing? Sure. Second date with a girl I really liked. Had to practically beg to get a hug the first date, LOL. We had dinner and what I thought was good conversation. Bitterly cold Chicago winter. While leaving, she asked if I wanted to sit in her car while it warmed up. She put some music on the radio. Cleared for takeoff, no? We talked a bit, I leaned closer. Said something incredibly smooth (very unlike me), kissed her lightly, and…fireworks! Must have kissed for at least a half hour, but it was beyond time.
As it turned out, she had planned to dump me at the end of the date. Said I barely talked. We were together over four years after that, and she’s a good friend to this day, nearly 20 years later.
It’s kind of amazing how we can sometimes get so nervous that we don’t talk or, in my case, talk too much. I love that you’re still good friends with the second girl. I think that’s awesome. It’s also kind of amazing how we can have a really great date and it just doesn’t work out. I had a few of those.
LOL I lost my FRIST there.
I don’t remember any of my first dates. Except one where the guy was SO INTO HIMSELF that he was all he talked about all night. That was our first AND ONLY date.
Oh man. I had a couple of those. Once, I left him, went to the bar and made out with someone else. Ooooh I should write about that. It was another magical kiss.
Gee…thanks, Ma. *eye roll*
Wait – grabbed toothbrush to sleep over his place after a night of hot making out and no banging?
Did I just read an episode of a rated-G teen romance novel? What a bummer!
Or, did you clean this up a bit knowing your family would see it? 😉
Like I mentioned somewhere earlier in this tale I didn’t really date so no real tales to impart. I hung out with people as opposed to date. I did have a guy I knew from high school invite me out for dinner several years after HS. After I said yes he said it would have to be at his house because he was on house arrest. Oh. Part of why I didn’t date is I worked as a stripper (mad fast cash) and once you are one of them guys think of only one thing… and they either expect you are easy or offer to pay. I think the easy bit is actually more offensive. Ah well. I do like to tell people I met my hubby at the strip club. It gives guys hope you know. But really, he was the DJ. We didn’t really date either. We hung out. Turns out the DJ at the strip club doesn’t make shit for money, btw. Now I have to go home so I shall continue this tale another day, but judging from the next title it does not go well.
I love that positive attitude! Givi g guys at the strip club hope is beautiful!