Falling

OH MY GOSH, GUYS.     HE'S AWESOME.


I could at this moment try to rattle off a list of reasons to justify the constant state of swoon I find myself in, but I'll spare you the usual he's funny and he's smart and he's nice and all of that.  I will instead sum up the extent of my enchantment with a simple story.

Thursday night, we went out to dinner and afterwards, watched a TED talk and a trailer for a documentary at his house.  (This, in and of itself is awesome, but wait, it gets better.)  Then we kissed.  (Still gets better.)  And I drove home. (Lame.)

Upon arriving home, I texted him.  "Thanks again for dinner and showing me all those nerdy videos!  I'll be dreaming of drones and Chilean hikes tonight!"

He texted back, "Sweet dreams.  I would opt for the hikes.  A quad-copter dream might be scary."

My sleep ended up being interrupted by a nightmare in which my grandmother died.  I woke up devastated.  Not exactly the sweet dreams I'd been wished.

I told him about it and before we said our virtual goodnights the next night, he added, "Oh, wait...good vibes..."  And then sent me this video from youtube:

https://youtu.be/xgudu2SZYzE

I didn't get much rest that night, but it had nothing to do with nightmares.  When an extremely attractive man that is interested in you sends you a love song before you go to sleep without him, it's a little like someone sending you pictures of dessert before you go on a diet.  If I wasn't yearning before that night, I certainly started.


Friday was a stay-in night.  I watched the NFL draft and movies with my dad at my parents' house, and I texted with "Brady."  At one point, he invited me to come over to his house to watch a movie, and I turned him down.  "I would, but I'm ridiculously tired," I told him.  Which was true.  But also, I was afraid of getting too attached too early.  Hanging out four times in seven days?  Seeing him two days in a row?  Was that too much?

I watched the video again before I went to sleep.

I didn't sleep well again.

You think I'd learn.

We spent the better part of Saturday together, slowly inching our way toward being comfortable with each other, physically, casually.  We hugged when I first caught up with him at Jazz Fest.  By the time Elton John got to "Rocketman," we were in a swaying embrace, my head on his shoulder, arms around waists.

We took a nap after the Fest, exhausted from the sun, and got up after darkness had settled in, in time to drive to Metairie for Chick Fil A with his roommate (because men are men...and because CFA has great fries).  We got it to go and watched Hiro Dreams of Sushi, a documentary about a Japanese shokunin that he'd been telling me about.  When it ended, we just sat there.

"I should go home," I said.  "It's late."

"You could stay," he said.

"I shouldn't," I said.

And I didn't.  I went home.  Where I watched and listened to that video over and over again.  Last night.  This morning.  In the car.  I missed a descant in church because I was thinking about him.  I tripped on the sidewalk because my thoughts were anywhere but on the path in front of me.

As I write, my phone is face-up beside me, and I hope--though I shouldn't--that he'll text me, that he'll ask me to do something today.  Because I want to see him.  I don't care that I spent ten hours with him yesterday; I want to spend eleven with him today.  I can't, and I shouldn't, and I probably won't.  But I want to.

These arms of mine
They are wanting
Wanting to hold you

And if you
Would let them hold you
Oh how grateful I will be


OH MY GOSH, GUYS.  HE JUST TEXTED ME.