A warning to everyone – I’m writing this in the heat of the moment.
I wrote about Ian and our chance meeting on Bumble, and then my largely unwarranted concerns about his communication pace. He and I have had more phone calls than I would normally want prior to a first date, but it was 10 days from first contact to being able to meet.
We set a date to meet and the specifics were in his hands. I called him on Monday – forget this texting bullshit – to sort out general timing. Tuesday afternoon he confirmed where and when I was to meet him.
I was filled with nervous excitement all day. Some poor colleagues got the brunt of my talkativeness. I knew full well until I saw him face to face, and then until our lips touched, our physical chemistry would not be established.
I really hoped it would be good.
Prior to our date, we had one or two sexually flirtatious moments on the phone. They were not over the top and definitely not crass – a bit of joking about undergarments and high heels. It felt fun more than anything else…an appropriate middle ground. He had also expressed concern about what he was going to wear, given he thought I was going to show up in a power suit and heels, and he was usually more casual.
I am a huge believer in trying to make people feel comfortable, especially on a first date. I’m not going to show up as full-on corporate Barbie if I think it will be intimidating. I wanted to wear heels because he said he thought they were sexy and he liked the thought of me being 6′ in them (he’s 6’3″). But it was really cold and I knew we may be going to a sporting event.
I landed on a pair of slim black pants and black heels, and I changed into a sexy black sweater after work.
First impressions? He looked exactly like his pictures, and was slightly awkward which I chalked up to nerves. Securing a table for us early, he had offered to order me a drink when I was on my way. He had the right balance between making decisions and taking my desires into account. For example, he asked my preference for eating at the restaurant versus the game, and then gave a suggestion of two appetizers he would like and did either work for me. That kind of thing.
I will write more about our date, which went from 5pm until almost 2am. My pants stayed on the entire time.
He seems so bloody normal, which is a relief. He was sweet, fun, and sexy. We had perfect kissing chemistry…despite our first kiss shared with thousands of screaming sports fans.
I am exhausted, elated, and frightened. I like this guy but it’s only been one date. I find myself replaying some moments over and over again.
I’m worried. Worried we went too far physically, or that it’s just a matter of time before his crazy comes out. Or that he’s actually on the rebound, having recently come out of a 18 month long relationship (which was a topic of conversation). I’m worried about being let down. I’m worried I shared too much of myself with him. That no matter what I did or didn’t do, no matter what I said or didn’t say, there are so many reasons he could bail before our next day (on Friday).
Yet simultaneously I’m exited. Thrilled we were able to talk non-stop for hours in person just like on the phone. Over the moon about how good it was to kiss him. Giddy (literally) thinking of how this mild-mannered laid back guy pushed me up against a wall and kissed me, hard. The fun text message he sent when he went to the bathroom. How he whispered in the taxi ride “oh Ann, our sex is going to be soooooo good.” I smile at the though of his said-aloud worry that he shared too much about his ex-wife, or that he talked about his relationship.
And smile even bigger when I remember his words about how it was possible that he met me, and how awesome he thought I was.
He seemed vulnerable and nervous as much as he was sexy. I boldly asked, after an hour of making out late into the night, how often he would like to have sex each day. His answer? “Between 2 and 10 times”, and I breathed a huge sigh of relief.
I’m not over-analyzing, despite how it might sound. I’m letting the contradictory feelings and emotions roll through me. And trying and failing to focus on work.
I can’t wait until Friday night.