Date #5 with The Cyclist. We went to trivia night at some pub and I congratulated myself on knowing that Walmart is discontinuing the _________ (Amazon Kindle). He did great. The last set was listening to clips of 90s songs and guessing them and then afterwards, we left the pub and wandered around the city looking for dessert, holding hands and singing one of the songs they'd just had us guess ("Jumper" by Third Eye Blind). "I wish you would step back from that ledge my friend. Cut ties to aaaalll the lies that you've been living in, aaand.... if you do not want to see me again, I would understaaaayaaannddd."
He's fun. Maybe we shouldn't like each other. He's a huge Dylan fan. I once cried at a Katy Perry song. I'm very open (I mean, this BLOG, yo). He's extremely private. He hates social media. That's part of my JOB. I'm fatter and he lives at the gym. He runs for fun. I would maybe run from a serial killer for about 20 feet. When I come home from work, I immediately dive into a billion projects and he actually gets to relax for the evening. But despite the odds, our rapport is really good.
He cut up slices of apple and surprise-handed them to me in a little plastic bag for my trip home. I was so touched by the tiny gesture. I thanked him, but if I gushed -- if I showed how I really felt -- would it look pathetic, like I am not too used to being doted over? Because I'm not. And then would that be permission to stop? I really like this whole being treated sweetly thing. I can't imagine ever getting used to it.
The getting-to-know eachother process is moving extremely slowly but that's good. I need that right now.