Being seen is the thing.Sunday, 4:30 p.m.
The Poet texted Wednesday or Thursday of last week and asked if I was available Thursday after work. I had a few things to do including a virtual meeting but The Poet is a one hour proposition so I knew I could work him in between the meeting and a phone call with the DJ. He did come over but he was very late so I missed DJ’s call. I think the DJ was calling because I’d mentioned feeling disconnected from him in this blog.
The “dates” that were so different was this booty call of The Poet, barely any small talk, get to it, talk a little after where I asked if he minded if I went to a reading of his and he made a negative face so I laughed and said okay. I texted later in the weekend to tell him I wondered if he thought I meant as his date because I didn’t mean that. He said no he didn’t think that. Okie dokie then lol. I guess it would have made him uncomfortable. I wasn’t even going to tell people we knew each other but he might not think that since my big mouth told his friend at the bookstore that we were FWBs. Shiza. Yeah I get that.
Then the DJ took me on an epic Sunday soiree that started with him getting his first pedicure. It was very fun to watch him try not to laugh during the brushing part. We then had time to grab a drink at a chain. I don’t love chains but this one did have my favorite Raspberry Lambic so I was appeased. I just love little home-owned places. It’s a thing. But dinner, oh this dinner. It was at a local institution, a tiny French restaurant. They still had their Valentine menu out and I got to bring a copy home because the writing in it is exquisitely funny. You see all the food was crafted to make people want to make love, with aphrodisiacs and then the words of the menu also. I loved it. The food was incredible. Once again the DJ has taken me to a place and treated me to a dinner that is in my top five dinners of my life. I would say three of my top five are with the DJ, only rivaled by a couple of places in Rome a few years ago. I mean Rome come on.
That’s what we did, but to talk for a moment about us together on the date. I was a bit shy to see him believe it or not. It had been almost four weeks. It feels so strange to me, to know him but not know him, not really. I know a lot about him but I don’t know him like I normally would know someone after four months. I do feel he knows me very well, mainly because of this blog where I spill my guts consistently. So I was a bit shy and then it was odd because he turned on the radio to listen to, yes something important, but it felt so odd to sit quietly while he listened (since I hadn’t seen him for four weeks) that I finally questioned it and he turned it off. Yes I felt, for the first time with the DJ, ignored. Things got a little better at the pedi but I was thinking okay, yeah this isn’t what I remember for how we connect through our words. I was thinking perhaps we’d run our course. At the chain bar I was a bit downtrodden but then I mentioned I’d posted right before he’d picked me up and he asked if he could read it right then. So he did. It was the “Aloneness” post. Then he said he felt it was the best one I’d written. That I’m a differentiated person, not following the crowd, staying my course to be me. And he likes who that is, I can tell. And then everything was like how it normally is with him. Click. I felt seen. That continued throughout the rest of the evening through dinner and then coming back to my place for sexy times.
At one point, I was giving him my look that I give when I’m trying to see inside someone’s soul. I only do it to those very close to me; my kids make fun of it. It is unnerving. I just focus all my eyeballs and attention on someone intently. Kinda weird I know. He did a little kind of eyebrow raise at me, like what the fuck and I just laughed. I was staring into those eyes to sense him, just trying to get a full read on him.
I didn’t get that read. Yet. What does that mean? I don’t know. It’s different with different people. He’s a conundrum I’m trying to solve, to place I suppose.
Okay I have to quit musing and get my buns in bed as 5:45 a.m. comes so very stupidly early.
Good night dear sweet readers!
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