A blog about heartbreak.

I had a great date with Mix Tape last night. We met for drinks at a great bar he picked out. He was better looking in-person than I expected (which says a lot because he already looked handsome in his profile) and so, so sweet. He was really interested in learning about me, he asked thoughtful questions and dolled out compliments. It was one of the best first date conversations I’ve had. He was just all-around a really cool guy.

A few hours into a very good conversation, he asked if I wanted to grab dinner; I said yes. He drove us to his favorite Mediterranean restaurant and we stayed until the restaurant closed. As we were leaving, he leaned in and kissed me outside the restaurant. Making out commenced in his car.

He then asked if I had any plans for the rest of the night.

“No plans,” I said and smiled slyly at him. He leaned in again.

I invited him back to my place, as we were only a few blocks away and the console in his car was not ideal for a high school make out session. I wasn’t planning to invite anyone over; in fact, I purposefully did not clean my apartment in the hopes I would be too embarrassed to allow it. No such luck there.

We continue to make out at my place and talk. As things begin to get handsy, I decide to do the right thing for me and stop him and tell him that I’m not looking for anything merely physical. He asks what I do want. And I tell him, with more honesty I’ve ever mustered to a man, that I want someone who will treat me nice for awhile. He nods and tenderly says he respects that. He then told me he just got out of a long-term relationship a few months ago and isn’t looking to rush into anything. That’s code for “I’m just looking to bone.” I thanked him for being honest.

And then something weird and wonderful happened: We just laid down and talked. I made jokes about dating men in Portland and we talked about our mutually painful OK Cupid dating experiences. We talked big picture about our last relationships and what went wrong. He kissed my forehead when I talked vaguely about Em., ending the story with “You live and you learn” and hoping to myself that I was doing just that tonight with Mix Tape.

We both agreed we had a great time and enjoyed each other’s company. He left by wrapping me into a hug, enveloping me with his arms and coat and telling me I was a “pretty cool girl” (hipster speak for “I like you and I want to bone you.”). He asked if I wanted to get a drink when he gets back from Detroit next week and truthfully, I would love to.

But only as friends.

Because god help me, I gotta live and learn.