I went home this weekend to see my sister in her first school play. She was really good. She didn't worry about "getting into character" or figuring out her "given circumstances." She just got up there and performed...I miss the innocence of children's theatre.
Anyway, through a complicated story, I ended up spending Saturday night at The Boy I Kissed's house. We had a great day. Ate, talked, watched TV, played Trivial Pursuit, ate some more. And yes, we hooked up again..still no sex, thank goodness. This time it was more tumultuous...it hurt a little more that we weren't going to see if this could be something. It ended well enough...we'll be fine.
This morning I was looking at myself in my bathroom mirror and thinking about TBIK. I realized what it is about him that I dig so much. I don't think I'm going to do a good job explaining it, but it's important, so I'll try.
He's the kind of person that you would write off on first glance. He's self-deprecating, kinda nerdy, not traditionally handsome, somewhat shy. However, when you get to know him, he is incredibly funny, interesting and interested, opinionated, passionate.
But the thing I dig about him is the way he sees me. When he looks at me, he's looking at me. He's not looking at my breasts, or wondering when he can see me naked. And even when he did see me naked he still looked at me...in my eyes. He had a look that I recognized as one I've given to more guys than I care to admit. It was a look of connection.
TBIK and I aren't on the same page in our lives for us to be together...love is 50% timing...and we do work very well as friends. But I haven't seen that look in a man's eyes since I was 17 and was looking in the eyes of my first love. I'm 31 now...you do the math. I came to this conclusion this morning in my bathroom and I immediately started to cry. I cried again on the subway as I wrote it down in my journal. I'm crying now as I write it here. I have gone through my adult life searching for a man who will look at me the way TBIK did Saturday night. How depressing.
As I started crying in my bathroom, Ella walked out of the bedroom and walked right up to me. She just looked at me and tilted her head to the side the way she does when she's being inquisitive. I patted her on the head and told her I'm okay. She licked my leg once and trotted back into the bedroom. I had another realization then...I experience love with Ella in a way that I have never experienced it before. I am grateful for that.