I have plans with Owen on Friday. No question about that, just some logistics to be resolved. I called him this afternoon because I wanted to run through them with someone, and given that Pele is out of town, Diego is in Mexico and I am out of the office, I didn't have any way to diffuse my anxiety. Owen didn't answer and I didn't leave a message.
Fine.
I got home, vacuumed, read blogs, did some writing, ignored the cat. It was after 7pm and nothing. I knew it wasn't meaningful. But I couldn't wait. I sent him a text, "Plans?" Almost immediately, he called and said, "So, plans…" He was on his way to the metro, just leaving work.
He said, "So, I was thinking about Saturday night…have you ever been to [bar x]?"
I said, "Yes. As a matter of fact, that's where I met you."
"Oh." I laughed. Then he described enthusiastically an event at the bar and suggested we go. All I could think was, "Is he canceling Friday night? Is this instead of Friday night?" I didn't say that. Instead I said, "That sounds like fun." And held my breath. He said, "I'd still like to do something on Friday, but I don't think I can cook you dinner…it's been a long week." (The original plan was for him to cook me dinner. Aw. I'm sure it will happen sometime.)
Big sigh of relief. Not only was he confirming Friday but he was suggesting something else for Saturday. Two dates in one weekend! With someone I like! Planned in advance! It doesn't get much better than that.
Every time I think this dating thing is getting easier, I prove myself wrong. I am, however, pleased that I don't seem to have scared Owen away…yet.
Grateful for: calm.
Drop me a line.
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