Crazy Girl. . . .

PART TWO:

I remember quite vividly almost crying as I prepared for the date with Creeper. I remember saying to myself over and over, "Why am I even going out with this guy?" I even talked myself out of canceling more than once. So when I locked and closed my front door at the awaited end of our evening out, I literally shook my head and asked myself the same thing, "Why did I even go out with this guy?" My nerves were so strong and my confusion because of his more than forwardness caused me to breath a huge sigh of relief as I walked downstairs to my twin bed alone.

I quickly forgot about Creeper and moved on. Even dating a guy I'd known from jr high that was in town for the week. But for some strange reason, about two weeks after the bizarre date, I couldn't get Creeper out of my head.

Before our first date, I remember talking to this guy on the phone the day before. I was at work. It was a slow day and so I decided to mop the floor. I mopped myself into a corner as my phone rang. It was him and we chatted for a bit as I sat on the bathroom counter waiting for the floor to dry. Now don't get me wrong here, I thought he was a decent guy or I wouldn't have gone out with him in the first place. So I somewhat enjoyed the telephone company. So two weeks later, I found myself mopping the floor once again on a slow work day and remembering him as I mopped myself into the corner of the men's bathroom. As I sat there on the counter waiting for the floor to dry, what he said kept pounding in my head like my heart after a good run. "I think I could make you happy."

"I think I could make you happy." repeated over and over again in my head. Almost hauntingly until I began to itch from the stress of it. I thought to myself, why on earth did after one date he think he could make me happy? I almost got angry at all this hypothetical thinking. An almost "how dare you" attitude began to react to his voice echoing in my mind. Then it struck me, he never called me back. Oh how my fiery emotions began to boil. Who does he think he is? Basically posing an eternal question at me on our first date and then disappearing. That "how dare you" attitude finally reared it's head.

Now to set the record straight, he did send me a message online thanking me for the date and telling me he had a good time, but I ignored it afraid he'd ask me out again. Boy did that come around and bite me in the butt!

He began to haunt my days and for almost a week I struggled with this. Thankfully I had my big move into my very own apartment to distract me. Or so I thought. All the unpacking kept my hands busy but fueled my mind because of all the quiet hours to myself. That itch of stress kept building until I finally, out of curiosity and anger, texted him a simple, "Hi how are you? I haven't heard from you for a while. How have you been?" I was bound and determined to stop thinking about him by finding out why he thought he could make me happy.

Four days later. . . .

I was a bit sad at him not responding, but again, I did ignore his first after date communication and so deserve whatever bed I made. So I continued onward in my life, until he responded.

I was oddly giddy at him getting back to me. I even teased him about his response time. But ended up talking to him for an unknown amount of time that night. I think it was almost four hours or so. Then again the next night, and the night after that. I had this strange draw to tell him about me. Like I needed, more than anything, to have him understand me. And so I talked. I talked about things only the walls heard me say. I could've easily been afraid or nervous, yet I was happy with him. So happy I asked him out. I invited him to a friend's Christmas party three days away. He responded with a yes, but only if I agreed to go to his work's Christmas party the following Saturday. I agreed and the dates were set.

The day of our second date came and after work I frantically fed and gathered my girls together rushing them out to be with their dad so I could come home and get ready. I cleaned the house, lit sweet smelling candles, vacuumed the floor so the carpet tracks were new, showered, and got myself ready, bouncy curls and all. I remember thinking to myself, "Why am I so excited to go out with this guy?" It was such a dramatic difference in myself between our first date and our second that I was questioning why as if I was going crazy. Then he knocked on my door.

Stay tuned for PART THREE.