So, after a very long time alone, last year I finally got a boyfriend. Or something like it. I explain: I met this cute Russian-American guy in New York City in my very first app date. And it was a pretty good date. I was shocked because I was not expecting it. I thought it would be a fiasco, that he might be a psycho, that we would not have anything to talk about. It wasn’t. I liked the guy the moment I saw him at the bar and our chat flew so well as if we were already friends… I could not believe it. He made me laugh, made me feel comfortable… I was at ease and so was he. He was very charming, a gentleman, smart, funny, fun to be with and good looking . As it is often the case when I like the guy, after our first date I was already imagining a romantic future for us. Together. Of course that my down to earth mind was telling me all along: it is too soon to call. Let it be, let it flow and see.
Anyways, we started to see each other, but only like once every week. From his side I don’t know exactly why we were seeing each other just once a week since we seem to like each other, but from my side I knew: I was very busy with my New York life (up to that moment with no romantic activities in my schedule) plus I just had started dating again via apps so I also had a few dates already planned to go. And since we were not official I thought it was Okay. And I thought that might be his case too.
I am gonna skip a little detail that shaked our relationship a bit but also brought us closer, because it is personal and it belongs to him and go straight telling you this: I always thought I was a very weird person. That kind of weird whom things happen differently all the time. Like my first kiss, my first sex experience, my whole dating life, my professional life, my social life, my mysterious way of being me… Nothing is usual or average the least. And that is why I do consider myself a totally weirdo.
And I thought that I would never ever come across someone as weird as I am… til I met him. And in the 5 dates I had with him that proved right: he is indeed more weird than me. The way he ended our first date so abruptly, the way he usually comments things about me, the way he squeezes me hard to show some affection, the way he made me laugh (a good laugh, by the way) all the day through with his weird way of being him and treating me. Just to think of all those little weird details, it makes me smile. He makes me smile. A big one.
As I said before we only had 5 dates and then I had to leave New York and come back to Rio, I don’t consider us an official thing, because, let’s face it: it is not really fair. For both of us. And although we still talk to each other very often, we have been apart ever since. We are still in the knowing each other phase, I guess. But this getting to know process is gonna be a challenge because we are both kind of mysterious, very much protective of ourselves, not so willing to open up that easily, we are both weirdos on that. In a way it is a good thing because we both know how it is to be this way and we end up respecting our limits and paces. At the same time, it is not that good because we have to find a way to open up the window to know each other. Because if we don’t, we will never know how much we actually do love each other. If we do.
The thing is, my heart was dead frozen for so long that when I met him and felt it melting I was so happy… Finally, I might have been in love again. Woo-hoo! But still I am so not used to it anymore that I feel like giving baby steps is the way to go. Not because I am afraid to get hurt but because it feels so new to me that I’rather approach with caution. And in slow motion so I can enjoy every bit of it.
And today is Valentine’s Day. And it could have been my first Valentine’s Day with a boyfriend in a very long while and yet, here I am, weird as usual, far away from “mine”, celebrating alone, once again.
Sometimes it sucks to be weird.
By the way, Happy Valentine’s Day!
Fab After 47 