Rita is a 32-year-old tech entrepreneur. She has a “sophisticated” personal style and says “Wine is my passion. I love hosting dinner parties and creating menus with great wine pairings.” Rita made a New Year’s resolution to take tennis lessons and says “It’s something I always wanted to do, but I was afraid I would be terrible! I already love it.” She says “I’ve given up on television so I can focus on writing and reading and doing research about my industry.” Rita wants to date someone who is funny, easy-going, successful and smart, and who is “interested in a number of different things.”
Derek messaged me on a dating app, but after I gave him my number, he didn’t text. I figured, or hoped, it was simply a matter of time. He’s a handsome, six-foot-two finance professional with an MBA, who has lived in multiple cities, plays sports and likes to dance. Exactly my kind of guy.
I wanted to reach out to him, but I stuck to my rules. I was going for the gold with this one. A week went by and he finally texted. He was bold and polite, commenting on my profile pictures and asking if he could take me for a drink.
Ever see someone for the first time and your heart starts to beat faster? Yeah, that! It was also a good conversation right off the bat. We bantered about a variety of different topics, had some laughs and asked a lot of questions about one another. We don’t exactly run in the same professional circles, but we have a lot of random connections, which could make things interesting. Derek has lived a fascinating life. I liked his drive and ambition and, just like me, that he doesn’t take himself all that seriously.
We had drinks and some small plates; he nursed only a couple of drinks, and I was careful to match his pace. Physically, there was something about him that made my stomach do flip-flops. At times, I found myself looking at the bicep under his suit jacket, or looking at his fingers and thinking . . . well . . . naughty things. And then, when a song would come on that he liked and he would do a little dance in his seat, those thoughts positively raced.
Ever since going to therapy and talking about how to spot the bad behaviours that are catnip because they’re familiar, I have an even stronger internal dialogue about how a man measures up. This one? Pretty damn well.
It was getting late and it was a work night. He expressed surprise when he learned how much time had passed, which is always a good sign. He paid. A great sign.
Leaving the bar, he put his arm around my back. I really wanted to touch him. At some point we paused on the street. I looked up at him and he gave me a kiss on either cheek and then put his warm hand on my neck. It felt very good. I wrapped my hand around his bicep and we kissed. It was really, really hot. It went on. We would stop kissing and then immediately start again.
I lost my composure and told him I wanted to see him again. He responded in kind. I told him I would get home by myself and would text him when I arrived. After I did, I made a snack and went upstairs to get ready for bed. There was no text back. I brushed my teeth thinking two parallel thoughts: “Please, I hope he texts me back” and “Don’t get ahead of yourself, you dumbass.”
Coming out of the bathroom, I saw that he sent me a text, which was flirty and fun. I did a little dance of my own.
Culled from http://www.thestar.com/life/relationships/