me, the mush

As you all know, I am a hopeless romantic and complete mush, this can be very difficult in today's world where one-night stands, friends with benefits, and no strings attached seems to be the expected mode of 'relationships'. And the days of being swept off one's feet in love appear to be rapidly disappearing. And this gets me thinking about the quickly approaching and dreaded holiday (fuck you hallmark) of Valentine's Day. For myself and all of my 'singleton' friends, we will insert a collective groan here...

Ready? 1-2-3...groan...

And if being single on Valentine's Day (VD - and yes, that is a deliberate reference but it allows me to get some humor out of it!) isn't enough - try having it be your first date with your now ex-husband. Yes, in case you were wondering, the suck factor increases by 300% because then...
I get to remembering...

...dreamy cloud like sequence is about to begin - the calendar is rolling back...

When I came home from work on Tuesday night and my roommate tells me that I have a package on the table. Odd, I hadn't ordered anything but ok. I walk over to the table and my hand flys over my mouth to try and stifle the ridiculously girlie scream that I am making, because I am shrieking and shaking - it is a flower box. (and every woman knows what it looks like and what it means to get delivered, boxed, flowers!!) After I stopped screaming, several painful seconds later (my poor roommate), I opened the box grinning so much I am surprised that my face didn't split in half.

A dozen long stem red roses

-whoosh-

All the breath left my body.

I burst into tears, because - as previously stated I am a hopeless romantic and a complete and utter mush and - this was just too lovely, and I knew from the box exactly who the flowers were from. I mentioned this in, Even innocent things, but I was desperately, crazy, and wonderfully in love with my ex-husband. But prior to the flowers we had gone four years without speaking except for the phone call earlier that same week. So to say that I was delirious with joy at receiving the roses and an invitation to dinner would be a tremendous understatement. I jumped and bounced around the house for 20 minutes - hugging and annoying my roommate to the point of seriously threatening our four year friendship, and returning from my tigger bounding every 30 seconds to sniff the roses, grin goofily at them, followed by reading (and re-reading) the card.

The card was simple, 'Looking forward to tomorrow night'. And the red roses said the rest. (big weepy smile, me the mush, remember)

And the more amusing part was that VD was so far off my radar at the time, because when he asked me on the call if I wanted to go to dinner on Wednesday night I said yes without even realizing what day it was, my roommate ended up pointing it out to me!

I called my dad and babbled about the roses like a teenager. Honestly the emotional euphoria was so extreme that I don't remember anything else from that night.

But I recall very clearly the shear nervous terror that I felt all the next day. Would he still like me? (we had been very close friends years before, but this felt different now) What would we talk about? Why couldn't I look more like Julia Roberts?...you know - important stuff!

I didn't and couldn't make myself eat all that day - I changed my mind seven million times about what I would wear, how I would do my hair, which lipbalm flavor I would put on. I almost vomited several times and picked up the phone to call it off no less than twice. When he showed up at my house I had been ready for 30 minutes (and I am NEVER early) and I actually stood behind the front door for several seconds to take some deep breaths before I opened it.

There he was and he smiled at me.
And I melted like warm honey.

I was sufficiently able to disguise my nervousness by keeping my hands clasped tightly in my lap on the way to the restaurant, and forcing myself to make light conversation...until dinner...

Sushi...which meant - chopsticks!
Dear Lord!

I dropped countless pieces of sushi all over the table, my plate, and finally actually flung one piece several yards away my hands were shaking so much. At that point, to my deep embarrassment, he asked if I had ever had sushi before and if I wanted a fork. (No, just instant death please...and may I have it to go!)

I turned bright pink - downed some Saki - and excused myself to the bathroom to have a serious chat with myself.
Standing at the mirror, it went something like this...

'You stupid moron, what are you doing? Take a breath and stop acting 12!! You know him and he knows you, he asked you out for pete's sake!!!'
followed by
'I know but he is so damn hot, when did that happen and when did his eyes get so green?'
then
'I hope he is having fun in spite of my behavior...'
and
'Well, he might if you would relax and be yourself and stop acting like an uncultured fool who can't even hold chopsticks!'
then
'Ok, ok, I am good, relax - breath'

And so I walk to the bathroom door my hand was on the handle...
Back to the mirror...

'Ok, I am so fucking not good!! Shit, shit, shit!!'

Big breath

'Alright - you can't hide here all night you psycho - get out of the fucking bathroom!'
'Fine! Dammit!'

What?? You mean everyone doesn't have these conversations with themselves...hmmm. Anyway...

I returned to the table where he stands up and pulls out my chair and proceeds to hold my gaze as he returns to his seat.

"You ok?" he asks, with just the lightest hint of a catch in his voice.

That did it the tension was so intense that my system could not take it anymore and it resorted to it's default response...I burst out laughing. (there are times where this response is detrimental; job interviews, funerals, during...well, nevermind that last one.) But this time it was just what we both needed.

"No," I replied, "I am scared to death I am so nervous!"

Again, he smiles.
I melt some more.

"Good." he says, "Me too."

And the rest of the night flowed like wine - sweet, warm, and intoxicating.

...the dreamy cloud disperses...

Tears are stinging the back of my eyes even as I write this, I wish I could hold those moments in my head with sharper clarity.
- the precious fragile time of love just blooming
- the glow of candlelight
- the connection of looking into the eyes of the man you know is going to be your lover
- the electricity in the simple gesture of him laying his hand on my cheek

-sigh-
-BIG sigh-

where was I?
Oh, yes, VD sucks!!! Collective groan in 3-2-1...