A Few Dates

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A Few Dates

He (September) She stayed the night for the first time. When she told me she would, I couldn’t believe it first. I’ve been dying for her to sleep by my side since that fateful date, a month earlier. I learned soon enough why she couldn’t stay. I had to accept it, I had no choice. We would go out, then come home and I would give her my man meat, and then she would get up and leave. Then she said she’ll stay - not one, but two nights in a row. I did not ask her, how. I was beside myself with joy and excitement. Nothing else mattered. She would curl up next to me all night long, and I would finally learn what she looks, feels, and tastes like in the morning. That first night was magnificent. Neither one of us has got much sleep, but it did not matter. We just reveled in one another, our bodies pressed against each other, our hands, legs, lips locked. We were both glowing the morning after. We took the train to work together, for the first time. To the outside world, we must have looked like a couple on their honeymoon. Nobody knew how far from the truth that was.

She (September) That first night together I thought I’d died and gone to heaven. I couldn’t sleep, so I just laid there, listening to his breathing. He slept so quietly, like a small child, and my heart was over-flown with tenderness. I didn’t want to think how brief, how momentary that was. We both agreed we would not think about it. But that night I realized he meant a lot more to me than I first thought...and that it would hurt me terribly when it ends. I knew that I would have to pay for this feeling dearly one day, but id didn’t matter then. When he was laying next to me, everything else would become irrelevant, insignificant. This is how I felt around him most of the time when we were together, nothing but that moment truly mattered.

He (July) I didn’t think I’d see her again after our first date. It was late December two and a half years ago, and we had lunch together. We talked about books, jobs, and families the usual talk of two strangers on the first date. I liked her right away. Her quirky accent, her smile, her brown eyes. I was fascinated with how well-read and intelligent, how smart and witty she was. And beautiful, so beautiful. Those big brown eyes... I e-mailed her the next day, asked her out again. She responded saying that she’ll get back with me and let me know, and never did. I thought of her often after that, wondering if I’d ever see her again.

She (July) When I saw his picture on that website, it struck me is this the guy I had lunch with almost three years ago? I’d been on a blind date marathon then, trying to get over what at the time seemed like the most defining and important relationship of my life. Needless to say, I rarely went on second dates with anyone I’d met back then. They were all perfectly nice young men, my heart was just not in it. I’d meet them, and talk to them, and have a drink or two, then get them out of my head as soon as a date was over. He was one of them, one of many. He made a pleasant enough impression, but what did I care? It was just a matter of impulse, mixed with mischief, to e-mail him and ask if he was the same person I once had a blind lunch date with. I didn’t think he’d remember me. I myself could barely remember his name or his face.

He (July) I knew right away it was her when I opened that e-mail. She did not even sign her name or attach a photo, yet I knew, even from those few very impersonal lines it was her. I replied right away, trying not to sound too excited, too eager. We spoke on the phone a couple of days later, and I recognized her voice, her accent, her laughter immediately. I offered to get together for a drink, for the old times’ sake, as I put it, pretending to be as casual as possible, fearing she’ll turn me down again. We made plans to meet at the bar close to her work in a few days