Last night was the dinner party. I went with the complete expectations that we were just friends.
I arrived and it was just Mich, myself, and the host.. while we waited around for her husband to get home from work.
We sat and talked, and ate. Mich never did anything that even bordered on the lines of flirting. He never touched me or outright flirted.
It was like sitting down with friends and chatting. Relaxed and easy.
But I was trying to figure out why in the world I was there. I really didn’t know the host. I’d met her once. This wasn’t a large party where I’d be one of a crowd.
To be perfectly honest, I could find no real good reason for me to be there. No reason for me to be invited, other than he wanted to see me again.
But the entire night he never made any kind of overture. He didn’t touch me. He didn’t really even flirt. He was just his normal nice considerate self.
Then Tory (the girl) began to ask me about my dating work (I’d briefly alluded to this blog the last time we’d met, in a discussion about dating advice) and a conversation about dating rules and etiquette started.
Mich and I avoided eye contact nearly the entire discussion, but there was a couple moments where he’d look at me while stating something.. then quickly look away.
Then he started on this long monologue about “hypothetically” how horrid it is for someone to find something real and just realize how real it is, and how good it is.. about missing whats right under your nose.. when they’re about to leave the country.
“Finding something real. Something lovely. And then not being able to do a thing about it.”
It was a brief blip in the night’s conversation, and no where in it did he mention he was talking about me. No hints no nothing.
He also talked about how sometimes the people with the hardest shells. Those who take time and effort to break through, are often the most vulnerable and sweet once you get past the shell. (For those that don’t know me, that’s a pretty on-the-nose description of me.)
But again, no mention of me in particular and nothing that I could absolutely without a doubt say “He’s into me”.. But I couldn’t help but feel like I was on a double date.
As the evening ended, I waited for him to leave so we could say a personal goodbye alone outside. We walked to our cars.
We hugged goodbye. A long hug. Cheek to cheek. A nuzzling hug of sorts. We stood there just holding each other.
“I’m really going to miss you.” he whispered.
My heart was going about 600 miles per hour, and I … well I wanted to run. I wanted to bolt and avoid telling him how I felt. No good could come from it. And yet, I wanted to stay there with him forever.
I managed to whisper back, “I’m going to miss you too.”
The hug ended and he walked away to his car. I just stood there watching him leave. Immobile.
He then turned, a big smile on his face, as he hammed up blowing me a kiss. In reality, it could have been just a simple friendly fun blowing of the kiss… but it didn’t feel that way. It felt real. It felt sincere.
As much as I tried not to show it, I swooned. I didn’t know how to respond. I’m not even sure how I responded. I do know that we shared a smile about it before we both got into our cars.
At the next street light, we ended up with our cars side by side waiting for the light to turn green. He rolled down his window, I rolled down mine, and we flirted. He blew me another kiss. I know I blushed.
The light turned green. We drove along the same stretch for while. I discovered that I was happy.
Then I saw his car turn off as he headed south and I headed north. I saw his car turn off.. and my heart broke.
By the time I got home, I was full-fledged sad. My heart hurt. I missed him dearly, and I was on the verge of tears.