“We sat, we talked, I was obviously emotional,” Adam described that first coffee date. “I was happy, she was skeptical, I smiled, she laughed, we hugged, and we parted. God, someone get me a cigarette!”
No, he’s not an addict.
No, he’s not a stalker.
Yes, he’s a little boy, hidden inside a tough macho shell.
At the restaurant on Friday, he pulled his chair to turn towards me. “I want to face you.”
And he really did. He looked at me, that way, and I couldn’t look away.
But let me stop here and be very clear with all you:
I know the kind of relationship I deserve to be in. Finally, I know.
I’m in such a good place right now — thanks, in part, to all of you here. The door will open when I meet that open, honest, respectful, intelligent, reliable, present, good-looking man.
Is it Adam? I don’t know.
It was really fun to tease him at dinner. When the waiter came up for our order, Adam explained that he didn’t eat dairy, red meat or pork.
“I’m really sorry,” I told the waiter. “I hadn’t realized that my date was so difficult–”
The guys laughed.
You’d be amazed how many times that you — my readers — came up during our dinner.
He pointed out, for example, that many of you are so protective of me. (So true!)
He asked about a couple of male readers, too.
Him: “So, who’s Phil?”
Him: “Yeah, Phil from your blog. He doesn’t like me–”
Me: “Oh, Phil. He’s a dad who comments on my blog. He lives nearby, we had dinner last month–”
Him: “He took you out to dinner?”
Adam kept asking me questions, encouraging me to talk. But every 10 minutes, I caught myself, open. He was looking at me. That way. I shut the door.
This time, for the record, he only cried a few times. Mostly when he talked about his daughters.
More than once, he paused and said, “I just want to be with someone who loves me as I am.”
(Me, too. Isn’t that what everyone wants?)
Outside the restaurant, we walked.
“I was hurt once before by you,” I said. “You need to be honest with me.”
“I will,” he said, stopping. Then he held my face. “And you need to be honest with me.”
“I will,” I said.
Then he drove me home. We stood next to his car and held each other. I could have stood there all night.
But I went inside. Alone. I couldn’t sleep.
And I decided this: I want my blog back.
I also want to see where Adam and I might go, offline.
And I want to know, from all of you:
What if I stop blogging about him/us, for now?
Will anyone protest if I ask him to take a leave of absence from the blog?
Photo of yours truly, here I come world… I’m open
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