I Think A Change Will Do You Good.

We started dating in June. The day I moved out of the apartment I shared with Craig, my boyfriend. I broke up with him in St. Thomas and when he asked me why, I didn’t know what to say. I’d been spending time with L and knew I wanted more. He asked me if there was someone else and I said no. Craig had been my friend since high school. He was good to me, he was in love with me. He’d asked me twice to marry him and I’d stalled. I always knew we wouldn’t end up together.

He helped me pack to move out. He bought me boxes and insisted I keep the car we were sharing. He offered to pay the security deposit on my new apartment and the day I moved my things out, he shuffled around, offering to help; looking hurt and alone and confused but still wanting to help.

The day after I moved into my new (rat-infested) studio apartment, L showed up with flowers. Our first official date was at a Latin restaurant. He showed off, ordering for me in Spanish and telling me about his family’s roots in Argentina. I swooned and didn’t notice that he hadn’t asked me what I wanted, what I like to eat.

After dinner he told me he’d like to take me to a concert the next night but he’d already promised his extra ticket to his sister. I admired his loyalty to family and swooned again. I later found out, from his sister, that he’d taken a date, someone he hadn’t yet stopped seeing. It became a joke. Ha ha. Remember the early days, when L was still playing the field, before he’d realized his heart belonged to me.

Before he took me home we stopped at what he called the most beautiful spot in the city. We parked the car and walked. When we got to “his” place on the pond, where the skylight was lit in the distance and couples were clustered against it, he kissed me. I admired his ability to sweep me around the city and show me new things. That was before I’d discovered metromix, the website that lists romantic sites in top 10 lists, makes it easy.

Within weeks, I was sleeping at his studio apartment most nights. Walking to work after sleeping just a few hours, lying awake talking and laughing and then watching him sleep. I’d never felt like this, never wanted anything like this.

I came home from work one Friday in July and he told me to put a dress on. I had one in a suitcase in his closet. He took me on a night cruise, one of those boats I’d deemed cheesy and for tourists; for someone trying too hard. The minute we boarded, I decided it was romance defined, I’d been wrong. We stood at the railing and took in the skylight. Later, we took a cab back to his neighborhood and he said he couldn’t wait to be alone with me. I shivered and knew, right then, he was the one. Later that night we walked to an all night Mexican joint and ordered beef tacos. I don’t eat beef. But that night, I did it anyway; it just felt right.

Last night, the nice guy from the bar a few weeks ago called me. He called to ask me for dinner tomorrow night. He offered to pick me up. He asked me what I like and what I don’t like. He listened and even sounded intrigued. He said thanks, he’d think about where to go. He’ll call me tomorrow afternoon with details.

It will be a long time before I’m ready to give myself up, especially now that I’m settling into the rhythm of me. but I do recognize a gentleman. One who asks questions and listens to the answers.

I like being single. I like being on my own. I like waking up in my own bed and starting a day by myself. I’m nowhere near ready to give that up but I’m sure as hell ready to have dinner with someone on a Sunday night.