I’m doing the dance.
I found a guy I like, I orchestrated a meeting, we had drinks in a group, I made sure he had my number without actually giving it to him myself, he called, we chatted, were supposed to meet. I was nice, and happy to hear from him but not too available, I was genuinely sorry that we couldn’t meet but was breezy and relaxed about it. I’m doing the dance. Most of the above was accidental and not as Machiavellian as it sounds, because, mainly, I’m incredibly shy.
But now starts the torturous part. I’m waiting for him to call. I know he’s old fashioned, and I know he’ll make the first move, and I would call him if I could come up with a reason that wasn’t your voice knocks my socks off and I just really wanted to hear it again. The waiting game though… it’s killing me. I hate this about being a woman.
Years ago I wouldn’t have cared, I would have found an excuse and called him, but now… things have to be more subtle. I don’t know why, I’m not sure what’s changed but I sense that it has, I have to let him call, and make the first move. Maybe it’s because he gives a very strong “manly” vibe, he’s so tall, his voice is so deep, his hands are so big… or maybe it’s because as I’ve aged, I’ve realized that though I want to and enjoy being “the boss” in my professional life, I want to be “the girl” in my romantic life. The other night, when we all had a drink together, he quietly paid the bill, and then he walked me to my car. In a sweater. It wasn’t sweater weather, and my reaction was to tell him I could walk myself to the car, and to head on home before he caught his death. And then I remembered I wasn’t his mother. And I genuinely appreciated both things, he was a gentleman, and it was nice.
I don’t know where this is going, if anywhere, but the giddy excitement I felt when he called, I missed that. I also hate that. I hate the waiting, and the shaky hands when I hear his voice, and the constant looking around to see if he’s there, but it’s also exactly the kind of lighthearted fun I’ve been wishing for. And I know that when he calls again, because I’m pretty sure he will, I’ll walk around with a smile on my face all day. It’s nerve-wracking, and frustrating and fun and exciting this waiting game, and it’s what I’ve been waiting for.