We walked around Bethesda, which is actually very beautiful and feels like a grown-up Arlington. He took me to his favorite store--Lululemon--where he literally knows every employee. One particularly chipper chick said, "We're going on a run to Guapo's in Tenleytown! Want to come with us?" Girlfriend, does it look like I'm dressed for a fucking run? And if you think I'm going to drop $250 for some of your overpriced sports bras and shorts, you are delusional.
Eventually we ended up at a Thai restaurant, and this time, the waitress only had to come by three times before we were ready to order (this is significantly fewer times than our previous dates because we'd get to talking and never look at the menu). I ordered my usual glass of wine, but he stuck with water because, of course, he's doing a triathlon this weekend. I'm trying to figure out how I feel about dating someone who is in WAY better shape than I am. But, as usual, we had great conversation. He's seriously cute and we never run out of things to talk about.
After dinner he took me to his place and showed me his "toys"--a Razor scooter, a hula hoop, a unicycle. I'm telling you, this guy is unlike any I've ever met. I love that he's playful and really doesn't give a fuck what other people think. He warned me that his bedroom had no furniture. And he wasn't kidding. He literally had a mattress on the floor, and that was it! It was perhaps the saddest thing I have ever seen. He lives up in the attic, and blames the narrowness of the staircase for his lack of decoration. To that I say, "Get your ass to IKEA because this shit is grim."
Let me just add that making out on a mattress on the floor feels a little too dorm room to me. Especially when the guy puts Norah Jones on. All I could think about was my college boyfriend, which is not exactly the mindset I was hoping for. And I was feeling a little conflicted about the time I'd had with SCL the day before.
"I should get going, " I said. It was getting late, and I had a long Metro ride back to Arlington. "Would you stay longer if I drove you home?" he asked. I agreed, and we continued to make out. Then the panic set back in, "Oh God, does he think I'm ready to sleep with him?" Because I wasn't. Not even a little. That's just not my style. I get too freaking attached, and I'm just not ready to feel that way about someone.
He drove me home, and I invited him in to meet my roommates while I quickly cleaned up my room. I had not exactly planned on having a visitor, seeing as how we started the evening in Canada. But one of the things I really like about Dr. Nutrition is that I feel like I could introduce him to any of my friends or family, and they'd love him. He's so good at relating to other people. In the five minutes it took for me to throw the dirty clothes and papers into the closet, he was already chatting it up with my roommate G.
I showed him my room. "See, this is what a grown-up room looks like!" Needless to say, it is way better to make out in a real bed and not a mattress on the floor.
It was around midnight that I felt the compulsion to bare my soul. I may not jump in sexually with a new person, but for whatever reason, I have a hard time holding back when it comes to spilling my guts. I'm a processor, and I just had all of these conflicting feelings about the situation--liking him, thinking about SCL, wondering what Dr. Nutrition was thinking. While I spared him the details of the break-up, I alluded to the fact that heartache wasn't in my too distant past, and it has me feeling a little afraid. I can't stand the idea of getting hurt again. I don't think I could take it. Basically, I had a bunch of internal shit distracting me from the present situation, and it left me feeling vulnerable and embarrassed.
But here's the good part of the story: it didn't seem to shake him at all. He didn't bolt. He just listened attentively and held me close. Dr. Nutrition is truly an exceptional person, from what I've seen so far. I've never met someone who seems so settled and comfortable in his own skin that I honestly think short of a murder confession there's really nothing I could say that would freak him out. It's a strange but good feeling to be the one who doesn't have it together completely. "I wish my feelings were more simple," I said. "What are you feeling?" he asked. "I feel happy to be with you right now, and that's all I want to feel right now. Does it bother you that I'm still healing?" "No," he said. "We've all been there."
He told me, "I think you are a beautiful person." I laughed, "But you don't even know me!" He responded, "I have pretty good intuition about people. Plus, your eyes tell me everything--that you are caring, loyal, passionate, warm, outgoing..."
Happy sigh. I like this one.
Looking back on the night, I wish things hadn't gotten so serious, but that's just where I was at the moment. And knowing it didn't freak him out (at least from what I could tell) makes me even more interested in getting to know him. Next week we'll lighten the mood with a wine tasting and hopefully a night of karaoke. I need to show him (and me) my fun side again.