333 Days Remaining
Long, long ago, before I was ever married, or a Christian, or any of the many things that I now am, I was young and naive. And I met a man.
This man and I began a relationship, and the relationship was not a good one. He didn't always treat me the way a man should treat a woman he cares about, and - despite my attempts to hang on and to change him into the person I wanted him to be - the relationship ended. And that was that.
|The world has gotten smaller|
A few months ago he came into town and wanted to take me out for a fancy dinner, something I very rarely get to do. I accepted - HB had just moved to Vancouver and I definitely needed some cheering up - and he took me to a very lovely restaurant, where we shared a few glasses of wine, a delicious meal, and some nice conversation. In the course of this conversation, he apologized for the way he had treated me in the past and asked for my forgiveness. I gave it and was grateful that he seemed changed and as though he had grown out of the selfishness of youth into a generous and interesting man. We had coffee together the next day, and he expressed interest in pursuing a relationship with me, but I made it clear that I was still completely immersed in HB, despite his move to Vancouver, and that my heart had no room for anyone else. He accepted that, went back to his own town, and I felt as though we had accomplished something. Let's call this resurgent from my past "Aries".
|Does "dinner for two" always imply romance?|
Yesterday, we had our "non-date".
I have to admit that in the few days leading up to our dinner plans, I was feeling increasingly uncomfortable about dressing up to go out for dinner with Aries. No matter how firm I was in my statements, he still seemed to brush aside my concerns and reminders as though they shouldn't apply to him. Part of me felt as though I should cancel, but I didn't want to disappoint him, and I knew I was strong enough to say no, should he try anything.
Aries was going to pick me up directly after my classes, so I had to bring my evening clothes with me to school. I grabbed some lovely heels and a halter dress that I had last worn a full year ago and jammed them - along with a strapless bra and my makeup bag - into my backpack. At the last moment I thought I should probably have something to cover me up, so I also threw a wraparound cardigan in the bag. I didn`t bother trying anything on; it felt as though if I tried too hard, it would somehow turn this not-a-date dinner into something uncomfortably like an actual date. I had no interest in spending hours debating which dress was better or what color of lipstick to wear or how I should do my hair (this is coming from someone who spent way too much time and money on a) a haircut; b) hair straightening; c) eyebrow wax & tint; d) a new outfit; and e) a bikini wax, all for a less-than-24-hour visit to Vancouver to see HB a couple of months back). I suppose I have my priorities (and for the record, it rained, so the hair was a washout. Literally).
I stared at myself in the mirror. I knew I shouldn't care what I looked like - it was just dinner with a friend, after all - but I just didn't like those lumpy-bumpies. There was only one thing to do, and it certainly wasn't something that I would normally do...but I had to. With a sigh, I wriggled out of the underwear and stuffed them in my backpack.
So there I was, ready to head out on my non-date...panty-less. This non-date could appear altogether too "date-like" - especially with a man who quite clearly wanted to push the boundaries with me - if I let it slip that I wore nothing under the dress.
I shook my head at myself and thought, Whatever you do, do not let him know about this.
...to be continued...