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.

We did.

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.

No pressure.

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…


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