Went on two (wow!) dates last night. Then at 11 pm ended up at his house. I was pulled there yesterday, but fought it. As I drove home last night, I had no desire to fight it; I just went and, as always, hoped for the best. I don’t seem to care what happens after, I just love being with him, talking to him, being next to him. I just love being in his physical presence. I feel washed with happiness and contentment. I feel confident and secure. I feel safe. I feel drenched in hope… when it goes well….
He has “stopped drinking”. Don’t know if I believe that, but it’s nice to see him home, not drinking on a Friday night. Hell, it’s always just nice to see him either way! Said he wanted to stop over earlier to watch a movie or something. Don’t know if he did because I wasn’t home.
Perhaps the fish ladder on Wednesday or Thursday? Sounded hopeful, but I’ll not hold my breath.
I gave in. I almost didn’t, but I did. I can’t go there and fight against the way I feel about him plus against that as well! I’m not strong enough for that. It feels different, but is that just coming from me? My wishful thinking and stubborn hope? I’ll never know, I only know it does feel differently. He is kind and he smiles. He snuggles, he laughs, without alcohol influencing his actions. Guess it makes me hope it’s real for a change and not a haze he’s in.
Told him I had been on two dates. He called me a “player dater”. Me! Hysterical! Nahhhh..more like desperation to not love him anymore, but I’ll never tell him that. He doesn’t really believe I’m playing anyway. He’s funny when he wants to be. I love that about him!
Laughing next to him is the most wondrous, intoxicating sensation. It comes from the deepest part of happiness inside me that rarely gets touched. He touches it so easily. He always has.
Guess I’m not much for dating after all, but hey, at least I’m trying!