My date went well.
By that I mean I actually went, and didn’t flake out.
He picked me up at home, like a gentleman. Then proceeded to drive to our date destination, which he had also picked. I was worried when he said we were going to a Chinese/Mexican place. I have to admit I pictured a pretty weird place, and was worried. The last thing I needed after getting ready for 2.5 hours was to go to some shitty place.
When we arrived I still had my doubts. But then we were seated and I was in love. The weather was beautiful so we were able to sit outside. The place was decorated very sweetly with night lights surrounding the whole outside sitting area. The food was to die for. And there were even fireworks for whatever reason. The date in itself was perfect, the only bad part: I didn’t feel any fireworks between us.
There was conversation the whole date, even in the car on the way, but at times it felt forced.
At the end of the date he paid for our meal, carried my take-home food, and opened my car door. All very good qualities. I was impressed, but still no spark.
When he dropped me off at home he gave me a hug, and indicated he would love to see me again. We made no plans.
The moment I walked into the house, I had already had a few drinks, so I messaged A. two pictures of how good I looked. He messaged me back complimenting them.
I know what I said on my last post… But addiction is hard… specially when you don’t want help. And every time I go out with another guy, I can’t help but to think of A., and how I wish I was doing it all with him.
So I called.
He picked me up, and we went to some crummy Irish bar. The only people there besides us were another couple, two old guys sitting at different ends of the bar, and the staff. We drank, and laughed hard. And then we started drunk talking to each other, you know when you’re so vulnerable that all your emotions just come out like word vomit.
He told me he thought many times of asking me to marry him. I wish he would have.
We left the bar as if we were a couple again, but we both knew we weren’t. But it was beautiful to pretend even if just for the night.
We sang to each other on the way home, which is one of my favorite things to do with him in the car mainly because I suck and he’s so good at it and I find it hilarious. As does he. And I love to see him smile or laugh or do anything really.
Anyways I ended up home alone, again.