The bad dater.

“I’m sorry if I’m not very good at this,” he murmured.

He was faced towards the television, so I couldn’t see his expression. I wasn’t sure what to make of it. As I lay next to him I touched his arm and ran my hand up and down his hard, well-defined muscles.

I wasn’t sure what he meant, and I should have asked him.

I wasn’t sure what he meant, but I assumed it had to do with the whole dating process.

I wasn’t sure what he meant, but all I said was, “You’re doing just fine.”

He turned to me then, looking into my eyes and smiling.

“Oh yeah? Well, you’re doing just fine too.”

I shrugged. This conversation made no sense, but I went along with it.

“I do what I can.”

He stroked my hair and kissed my forehead. I’d read in some magazine that a kiss on the forehead meant that the receiver is special to the person giving it.

I smiled inside.

“I am thoroughly enjoying this,” he told me as I pushed a piece of hair out of his face.

“Me too,” I nuzzled into his neck and exhaled. “I’m glad we’re in agreement.”

“I want to go places with you.”

“Oh really? Like where?” I questioned.

“Well…” he thought about it for a moment. “Like, a drive-in movie. Or a murder mystery dinner. And I should take you snowboarding. I think I have a board that would be a good fit for you. We should go to Vermont, actually…” he continued to rattle things off as I giggled.

“Murder mystery dinner??”

“Yeah, I’m weird remember?” he asked.

“I love it! That makes two of us.”

We lay like that for awhile, talking about things we’d do. How I would find him at my house one day talking to my parents about our elopement. It was all very silly and juvenile, but in the humor, I could see a future.

We never got to that drive-in movie or the murder mystery dinner. I still have never been snowboarding and I’m not eloping anytime soon.

It’s funny, sometimes, how wrong we can be.

And I guess that’s another thing I have to forgive myself for.


1 Comment (+add yours?)

  1. Trackback: Snow bunny | Wild oats.

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