Friday night I went on what I like to term a "traditional, Southern-style" second date with William. We're talking the works: getting picked up, valet parking, perfect dinner at Rasika, dessert at Coco Sala, ride home. Yes, ladies, this man considered this standard protocol. I restrained myself at multiple moments from singing Put A Ring On It. [PS: GOOD LORD, if you go to Rasika, PROMISE me that you will get the Palak Chaat. JUST PROMISE ME.]
[On an aside, I had a very interesting conversation with one of my co-workers last week. He told me that until the age of 29/30, women held all the dating cards in their hands; and upon turning 31, they ceded these cards to men for the duration of their lives. Myself began to protesteth, but then it hit me: I had three, maybe four years left if I was serious about becoming a Mrs. Someone. Right now, it felt as though the dating world was at my immaculately-painted fingernails, but would this dinner-paved, city-glow foray last forever? Friends tell me: no. Thus, I must adjust my radar. I must not turn dating into some frivolity, but rather a serious search for "the one."]
William is the total package so far. While I also said this about Adam, I will inform you that I discovered his propensity to be manorexic, and I took a hatchet to that budding relationship pronto. Now, every person certainly has their flaws. I advise all of you to take out a sheet of paper and make two columns. Label one column "Flaws I Can Live With" and term the other column "Flaws that I Cannot Live With." This is a helpful exercise in coming to terms with reality.
Which brings me back to William, who has kindly disclosed to me two of his relationship flaws. The first, is that he lacks the connection between feelings and vocalization of emotion (Ehh). Second-he operates very, very slowly. In the dating world, paint dries faster than William making a move. Neither of these seemed a dealbreaker in my eyes (right? I mean, unfounded arrogance or boring rank a lot higher on my list.)
Back to my fancy Friday night. By the entree, I realized that William's personality was a counterweight to own, extroverted openness. The more he instituted patience and retracted from impulsive action, the more I felt like a CRAZY WOMAN begging for scraps. Example: around 11 P.M., things were proceeding without a hitch. Dinner was over. Dessert was over. Drinks had been drunk. I was staring into his dark, deep eyes, listening to him wax on about something that displayed his emotional depth. The female part of brain was thinking: this is the part in the movie where William kisses me. And the opportunity was presenting itself. In fact, it continued to presented itself almost four times (not that anyone is counting) at CoCo Sala, and again at the end of the night. It was getting ridiculous. I was crushing hardcore on this guy, and he seemed perfectly content to not lay a finger on me. And after a quick hug (WTF) and promise to call me, I was left with slight confusion and a feeling that I am not sure I have experienced in a long time: yearning.
So friends, if William doesn't kiss me on the third date, is it over? Is this normal? Maybe he hates kissing? Unlikely. Does he want to kiss me? Maybe. Doesn't he want me to want him to kiss me? Okay. I know what you're saying. I'll take your advice and stop staring at my phone, waiting for him to call me. But I can't make any promises about the daydreaming.
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