10 Years of Marriage...& Counting: The Date

Ken and I spent the next two evenings chatting on the phone trying to get rid of the absolute awkwardness that would be between us with just 10 minutes of info on each other. I found out very quickly that I really liked this guy. It was decided that we would have a dinner date at an Italian restaurant and then head off to a comedy club called "The Funny Bone".

On the evening of the "big day" I begged my Marine Corps Father to at least acknowledge the existance of this young man. I told him I thought this might really be someone special. Dad, was super hard on guys. Not that he gave them a rough time. Not at all. Quite the opposite. He didn't give them the time of day. So I beseeched my Father to do something more than a drive by peer from a distance down over the stair banister thingy. When the doorbell rang, it seemed like the entire family (minus my Dad) came running to greet the new kid.

Ken was dressed to the nines...my kind of nines at least. Again in a polo shirt and nice pressed shorts. I was taught frugality at an early age, so I had managed to scrounge up the tiniest pair of Goodwill jeans I owned, and a black sleeveless top. My younger brothers drooled over the cool Blazer waiting for us in the street. And thankfully, my Father did manage to work up some eye contact.

I was all too happy to be out of my family's sights and equally nervous to actually be finally on an actual date with this guy I didn't even dare to deserve. As we were pulling out of the housing development, Ken said something I'll never forget. It broke the ice for me. I still can't put my finger on what it was. "Are you nervous?", he said. There was something about stating and answering the obvious that put the whole scene at ease. The windows were rolled a bit down, and the wind was swirling in the car about as much as my stomach was flipping over. I stared at him with the silliest girly gaze of wonder.

I remember hearing him in the car. Hearing the air exhale as he breathed through his nose. Something anyone else could do and it would annoy me crazy, but with him, I remember feeling like it was an assurance that he was alive. The guy at the wheel, that looked like he stepped out of that catalog was real. (I still love to listen to him breathe.)

So we ended up going on an amazing date. I won't bore you with the minute details. I quickly learned that I was in the presence of a young man who really knew, KNEW, how to treat a young lady, thanks to two older sisters and an outstanding set of parents. Our conversation sailed happily wherever the winds of topics blew. When the date was over, we drove home. There was still an hour of daylight, so we took an evening stroll around the neighborhood. He learned that I wasn't afraid to pick up a frog, and I learned on our return back to the house that he had just ended a 3 year relationship with another young lady. **double gulp**

After what amounted to be a perfect ten for a date. I dodged the kiss (or so he says) and we hugged good night. And than he said something that would have me dumbfounded for the next week..."It's probably best that we just stay good friends."

WHAT!!!??????

After all of his pursuit? After all the good vibes? I get the "Let's just be friends" line????

I wasn't sore over it. Even as I was still feeling myself getting crazier over him by the minute. I even had this tiny little picture of us in a key chain we had gotten at the comedy club to obsess over while I was in the Rocky Mountains of Colorado. I knew he was too good to be true. Not him per se, but the situation.

I packed for Colorado that night, thinking that maybe we would be friends. Who knows. Despite that stupid line, I felt good about the whole thing. Maybe God was giving me a gift, after all of our talks together that summer. Maybe he thought I could use a night on the town and some innocent fun. A Cinderella moment. It was just nice to go out on a great date with a handsome young gentleman who could make me laugh so effortlessly.

So what if he didn't call me again? I'd go back to my life and think about him again. Just at a little less of a distance this time.