I had the most romantic date last weekend…
Even though it was the first time we ever met, it felt like I had reunited with a long-lost friend. Perhaps he had gone to war or moved away for business or something. All I know is he felt gone, but now he was back.
I’ve been on a self-imposed love life hiatus in order to focus on other things such as becoming a work-at-home mother. Between my freelance writing job for a media company’s employee communications newswire, the upcoming book and this blog, I’m busy! Then there’s the best job of all– being a Mom.
My Facebook status says it all: “In a Relationship”…. With My Upcoming Book!
But when Andrew’s online dating profile appeared on my computer screen along with 6,194 others the matchmaking robots had sent to me in a 15 minute roulette table style time span, something about his eyes made me click on his page. Damn! He lived in London! I’m not even sure why I wrote to him. I guess it was a symbolic gesture before deleting my long ago abandoned account for good.
“Why do you live in London?” I wrote.
That’s when the hand of fate gave the dog diarrhea. Mesa had to go out right that instant and so I jumped up from the computer before hitting yes to the “delete me forever” button.
A few hours later, I saw the message light blinking. It was him! He was in New York and would I please meet him in the city for the premiere of a documentary film he had just produced.
We talked on the phone for almost three hours, or I should say we laughed on the phone for almost three hours that late afternoon. As it turned out, we had friends in common both in London and New York. While that put me at ease, I really just liked the sound of his voice.
At first, I said no, even though my kids were at sleepovers. It was cold and rainy outside and all I wanted to do was get in bed early and watch Netflix.
But when his voice kept popping into my head, I texted him.
“OK, I’ll be there.”
If there’s one thing I’ve learned is you never know what tomorrow brings. This seemed to be one of those spontaneous times.
While I’d missed most of his film premiere, we ducked into a restaurant next door. Settling into the big red leather couch overlooking the bar area, it was just the two of us up there. It was the perfect setting for being alone in public as we sipped a glass of champagne each, talking and sometimes laughing so hard that people actually looked up several times to see what was so funny. It was impossible to tear ourselves away.
It was going on 4 am.
“I think we just fell asleep,” I said.
“No, you did!” Andrew teased, imitating my head nod.
We talked about how nice it would be to be cuddled up in a toasty campfire tent at that precise moment, or spend a rainy day watching movies and eating Chinese takeout at his flat in London. We’d go on holiday in India and start our own media company, hiring people to execute all of our self-proclaimed brilliant ideas. I would teach him how to ski and he would teach me how to dance as in right here and now as he twirled me in the street, sweeping me into his arms and back again, kissing and laughing at my inability not to step on his feet.
“I want to see you again,” Andrew said.
At that moment, it’s all I wanted too.
But as I drove away back to my life and he flew away back to his, I decided some things were meant to be a moment in time.