The Coffee Date (+ beyond)
We opted for Starbucks on an uncharacteristically warm Sunday in December. I greeted him with a warm handshake because I had no idea what else to do and I had never felt more nervous for anything in my life. I ordered my usual; he already had his drink.
Conversation went far beyond TFA - we talked about life and teaching and what brought him to Wabash and how his professor was my assistant soccer coach and his assistant baseball coach was my dentist. We talked about trips and hometowns and school and I realized his eyes were the color of blue that I always said was my favorite but never knew how to describe.
I was floored by his kindness and willed the date (?) (business meeting? informational TFA appointment?) to last a little longer. Eventually, we wrapped up our conversation, ended with a side hug, and headed for our homes. The goodbye was ambiguous: would I call him? would he call me? I told him we'd wait and see, and it was Christmas Eve when he texted and asked if I was free that coming Thursday.
I drove to Lafayette dressed to ice skate despite mid-60 degree temperatures. The rink was melted but we walked the pedestrian bridge over the Wabash River, halting over the moonlit water to talk faith and friendships and fantasy football. I grew less nervous as the night went on and five hours later, we shared our first kiss outside the Dos Amigos Supermarket. For most of the evening, I'd wondered if we would be anything more than dos amigos. That kiss confirmed we most certainly would. We were blown away by how much we had in common, how naturally conversation came, how easy it was to laugh and look into his eyes. Among millions of other similarities, we learned that we probably:
1. Had sat through the same church service only two rows apart
2. Had eaten at El Charro for the same Thursday taco deal
3. Had passed each other at Walmart during a Sunday night grocery pickup
AND, he student taught at the school where my mom works as a secretary. She checked him in. He left the office and she said to her co-secretary, "Mr. House, would you like to date my daughter?"
Over a YEAR later, we were caught in a whirlwind: maximizing every moment of Christmas break before I left for a month-long trip to Nepal. Rainy canal walks, Little Mexico dinners, bowling, (finally) ice skating, accidentally meeting each other's families, and staying up until 3am talking on the couch. In the most wildly unconventional, reckless, risk-filled move of the decade, he asked me to be his girlfriend at 2am the night before I left for Nepal and I absolutely couldn't dream of saying anything but yes.
Then, I stepped on a plane for sixteen hours, only to land in a country with a 12-hour time difference, limited electricity, and no WiFi. My brand-new boyfriend was about to think I disappeared, and we went almost an entire week before a single "made it!" text went through. We FaceTimed once in a dimly-lit hotel stairway littered with rats and most of our conversation consisted of, "what did you say?" and "can you hear me?" But the whole time, he was full of grace and encouraged me to live in the moment and enjoy the trip abroad. Nepal was amazing, heartbreaking, and life-changing, but I couldn't wait to come home to Mr. House.
I was floored by his kindness and willed the date (?) (business meeting? informational TFA appointment?) to last a little longer. Eventually, we wrapped up our conversation, ended with a side hug, and headed for our homes. The goodbye was ambiguous: would I call him? would he call me? I told him we'd wait and see, and it was Christmas Eve when he texted and asked if I was free that coming Thursday.
I drove to Lafayette dressed to ice skate despite mid-60 degree temperatures. The rink was melted but we walked the pedestrian bridge over the Wabash River, halting over the moonlit water to talk faith and friendships and fantasy football. I grew less nervous as the night went on and five hours later, we shared our first kiss outside the Dos Amigos Supermarket. For most of the evening, I'd wondered if we would be anything more than dos amigos. That kiss confirmed we most certainly would. We were blown away by how much we had in common, how naturally conversation came, how easy it was to laugh and look into his eyes. Among millions of other similarities, we learned that we probably:
1. Had sat through the same church service only two rows apart
2. Had eaten at El Charro for the same Thursday taco deal
3. Had passed each other at Walmart during a Sunday night grocery pickup
AND, he student taught at the school where my mom works as a secretary. She checked him in. He left the office and she said to her co-secretary, "Mr. House, would you like to date my daughter?"
Over a YEAR later, we were caught in a whirlwind: maximizing every moment of Christmas break before I left for a month-long trip to Nepal. Rainy canal walks, Little Mexico dinners, bowling, (finally) ice skating, accidentally meeting each other's families, and staying up until 3am talking on the couch. In the most wildly unconventional, reckless, risk-filled move of the decade, he asked me to be his girlfriend at 2am the night before I left for Nepal and I absolutely couldn't dream of saying anything but yes.
Then, I stepped on a plane for sixteen hours, only to land in a country with a 12-hour time difference, limited electricity, and no WiFi. My brand-new boyfriend was about to think I disappeared, and we went almost an entire week before a single "made it!" text went through. We FaceTimed once in a dimly-lit hotel stairway littered with rats and most of our conversation consisted of, "what did you say?" and "can you hear me?" But the whole time, he was full of grace and encouraged me to live in the moment and enjoy the trip abroad. Nepal was amazing, heartbreaking, and life-changing, but I couldn't wait to come home to Mr. House.