He tapped me on the shoulder as I was texting him my location and I whirled to find him even cuter than his photo. We hugged shyly hello and headed up the stairs into a Thai restaurant where we sat for the next few hours and chatted comfortably.
Him: "On my profile, it says to ask me on our date about how we met. So, know how we met?"
Me: "Um, in front of the fountain 5 minutes ago?"
Him: "Haha, no, you know what? I wrote you last year. And you never responded. I favorited you even. Then when I saw you online again, I almost didn't write because you hadn't written back last time, but I thought 'oh why not'."
Me: "What? I usually respond to most messages unless they're just a flirt or a single line of text that doesn't look like they read my profile. I'm so sorry!"
Him: "That's okay! I'm not bothered by it, just think it's funny. It was this time last year."
Me: "Hmm. This time last year I was sporadically online after a relationship ended. I'm so sorry I didn't write back, I usually try not to blow people off."Yikes, I really do try to handle exchanges with care. Lesson: don't be a dick, ever.
After our date we stood outside my car and he put his arms tenderly around me and pulled me close. "I don't usually do this on a first date," he murmured into my hair and I relaxed into his arms, which isn't usually easy for me -- I spend like 90% of the time warring with myself, trying to will comfort. Like last night when I got scared! I thought it was just me but friends argued that the gut, though unpopular, will have its say. I disagreed with them all day until tonight, when he reached for me and I didn't want to run away.