All of them were guys I kind of forced myself to go out with because I felt like I was supposed to be dating, not because I actually wanted to be.
In fact, last December I even wrote about my lackluster enthusiasm regarding a date just moments before I was supposed to meet the guy at dinner.
You can tell how excited I was, right?
Well, this is different.
(Courtesy of Google Images)
The truth is, I am a pile of nerves. Good nerves. Excited nerves.
But nerves nonetheless.
He texted me this morning around 11:30, letting me know that his partner would not be making it and asking if I would still be interested in just hanging out with him for the night.
I responded that I thought I could handle that!
And ever since, I have wanted to vomit. I’ve been so nervous, that I honestly couldn’t eat for most of the day. I finally made myself grab a sandwich around 4, solely because I didn’t want to sit down with him starving and incapable of interacting.
So now I sit here. Trying to get ready. Forcing makeup on my face and working on deep breathing excercises. Telling myself to play things cool tonight and go with the flow… not push the baby thing unless it comes up in conversation organically.
Reminding myself that this is a good thing.
I’m going on a date with excitement and butterflies for the first time in 2 years.
After weeks spent praying for the chance to find someone special.
And there has to be something to that… doesn’t there?
