How I fell, part one.
Boy, this is the start of a series of posts I have been dreading to revisit—the story of a relationship that ended just a month ago. While it was just 4 months in time, it was a love that shook me. I hope you’ll stick around for the entire story. Here goes…
* * *
It all started January 2012, or perhaps early February—I’ve never been good with numbers—when I attended a dinner at a local Italian/steak/seafood restaurant.
I had done an interview with the chef a few months earlier, and the manager (at the time) invited me to come back for this Oscar-themed dinner. I didn’t have a man in my life, so I asked my editor if she’d like to join me. She did.
I got dressed up, wearing a form-fitting blue/green/pink patterned dress, picked up Kendra, and we headed to the dinner. It was group seating, so we sat amongst 8 other people we didn’t know—all couples.
The entire night, I remember stuffing my face on nearly every plate that passed me, and gulping down all the wine I could handle. I was chatting with Kendra and talking nonsense to the woman next to me.
But there was a gentleman sitting across from us that would occasionally chime in. He was with a very pretty woman; I didn’t know what was going on. When the night was officially over, he moved seats to sit beside me, and asked us if we’d join him outside for a smoke.
He, D (I’ll explain later), asked me if I’d like to join him for dinner the following night.
“Uh, isn’t that your girlfriend inside?” I asked him.
He said no, it was his best friend, and that she joined him for date-events since he wasn’t seeing anyone.
I was hesitant. I had just gotten out of a long (4-year-ish) relationship that had broken my heart. If I went on a good date, it would make me feel better, but if the date sucked, I’d be sad.
I told him I wasn’t sure.
So, he laid it out for me: I could meet him right back there at 6 p.m. the following night (a Monday). We wouldn’t exchange numbers, so if I didn’t go, I’d never hear from him.
So with that, Kendra and I left—she was convinced I should go on the date and probably marry him.
I wasn’t so sure.
The next day, I still wasn’t sure what I should do. So I waited, and thought, and waited, and thought.
I waited until the very last-minute, and decided fuck it, just go and have fun. After all, what did I have to lose?
So I pulled on a pair of skinny jeans, some knee-high black boots, and a top, and hit the road. When I got to the restaurant, I didn’t see him yet. I figured I would just grab a seat at the bar and wait.
I ordered a glass of Sauvignon blanc and waited…
TO BE CONTINUED…
Posted on August 1, 2013, in The Squeeze and tagged dating, drinking, first date, heartbreak, Holly A. Phillips, How to Make Lemonade, life, love, relationships, single, The Bitter Lemon, twenty-something, young love. Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.