Dater X: State Of The Union

I’ve always been told that true love will find you when you’re least expecting it. I’ve always thought that was a load of bullshit. Like I’m supposed to believe that right after you, for example, decide to ease up on your hunt for a soulmate and embrace your single status, a guy who noticed you on OKCupid will pop up at your local bar, introduce himself and boom—a month and a half later you’ll be inseparable? HAHA, yeah right. Except, that’s what’s happened. Though the unexpected “love” hasn’t quite happened yet, it’s safe to say I’m very much in “like.” I’ve been seeing Andrew for awhile now, so I feel it’s only appropriate I give you all a status update on our “situation”; a State of the Union, if you will.

I was unsure about Andrew in the beginning. I was attracted to him, but not weak-in-the-knees attracted. There was the whole height issue, which I was thankfully able to get past. Also: my dad is, frankly, racist and dating outside my race has been a bit of struggle because of his prejudiced attitudes. Andrew is Spanish, so off the bat, I knew that if I wanted to get to know him without anybody else’s opinions distracting or deterring me, I would have to tune out the peanut gallery and focus on my own thoughts and feelings exclusively.

With the exception of leaking a few basic details to some friends, I kept the specifics of our first several dates private to avoid having my judgement clouded, and it was the best thing I could have possibly done. During that time, I was more clear-headed about my dating desires than I’ve ever been, mainly because I wasn’t allowing anything or anyone to sway my own thoughts on the matter. For the first few weeks that Andrew and I were seeing each other, we kept our dates basic — a dinner here and a lunch there— but the one constant was laughter. Not only is Andrew ridiculously witty and full of jokes, but he can take them just as well as he can dish them, and I love a guy who can laugh at himself. And when he does laugh, it’s one of those hearty, contagious belly laughs that can’t help but make you and everybody around you laugh, too.

In between dates, Andrew and I text often and he continues to actually CALL ME. Like, on the phone. Apparently chivalry is not dead and that dialing thing still works. Before I knew it, our conversations became more frequent and 15 minutes of silly banter turned into two hours of deep, meaningful discussion. Sometime during that transition, I started to really develop feelings for him.

A month or so in, Andrew and I started seeing each other more frequently, branching out with our date night plans. We went bowling, saw a comedy show, went to the movies and did more “couple” activities until I finally felt comfortable enough to invite him to my place for dinner one night. At this point, my interest in Andrew had become full-blown attraction. He’s a good-looking guy with a body you could legitimately described as “chiseled,” and his personality only sweetened the deal. But despite the fact that I was now emotionally AND physically attracted to him, I still wanted to wait a while longer to have sex. I’ve hopped into bed with guys quickly in the past, only to be ditched and left hung out to dry (ahem, GQ), and I didn’t like the way that made me feel, so I wanted to move a little slower this time around. That night after dinner, we headed to the bedroom where things started heating up, and I knew I had to make my intentions perfectly clear before I lost all of my willpower and gave in.

“Before things continue, I just want you to know I really like you but I’m not ready to sleep with you yet. I hope that’s okay,” I said, half waiting for a disappointed reaction.

He laughed.

“I don’t hang out with you with the expectation of having sex with you, or even with the expectation of hooking up with you,” he said, looking me in the eyes. “Do I want to sleep with you? Absolutely, but only when both of us are ready. My only expectation is to have good time, and you’ve come through tenfold every single time.”

I smiled, gave him a kiss and thanked him for understanding. He leaned down and whispered in my ear.

“But until that day comes, I want to make you feel the way you make me feel. First, I’m going to…” and he proceeded to tell me exactly how he was going to get me off while he did it. It was like he was narrating our own erotic scene from a Choose Your Own Adventure book, and his descriptive detail was ON POINT. I’ll let you create your own visual here.

The next weekend, still having abstained from the No Pants Dance, he asked if I felt comfortable meeting some of his friends and family (sans parents) after we went out to dinner. Understandably a little nervous, yet flattered that he wanted us to meet, I agreed. When we walked into the bar, we were greeted by, no joke, at least 20 people: Cousins and sisters and friends and girl friends, all eyeing me up and down like they were about to haze a new recruit. Thankfully, they all turned out to be very welcoming, but one-by-one they tested my wit. Knowing Andrew needs a girl who can keep up with him in the humor department, they took friendly jabs at both of us, waiting to see if I could return the punches. Not even an hour after we arrived, Andrew waltzed over to me while I was talking to his best friend and said, “Got a sec? I want to show you something.”

He pulled me into a dark corner and opened up a group chat on his cell phone labeled “Everybody.” He held it out in front of me to read.

“Dude, we love her.”

“She made fun of your shelf ass, so she’s a keeper.”

“If I weren’t a straight girl, I’d date her.”

I high-fived him, brushed my shoulders off, slapped his shelf ass and walked away. At this point, I knew Andrew was the real deal. He felt comfortable enough with me to introduce me to some of his loved ones, he compliments me, embraces me in public (unlike Officer Handsoming, who wouldn’t go near me) and gives me those damn butterflies in my stomach. I smile when I see his number flash on my phone, look forward to our time together and feel like I can truly be myself around him. (Side note: I feel SO “myself” around him, that I even told him when I got a yeast infection, which is normally totally against the rules of dating, but whatever. He has sisters and didn’t even flinch.) He’s pretty great, guys.

This week, we slept together for the first time. To say it was fucking glorious would be an understatement. Sex with Andrew was everything I could have hoped for and more. I’ll spare you the details (even though you probably want them) and simply tell you that holding out a little bit longer was the right choice. Those extra few weeks made me realize that that guy I’ve been dating is the guy I want to continue dating. Probably exclusively. Right now, I’m enjoying our time together: the connection we’re making, the great conversation, and the kick ass sex I can confidently say we will continue to have. To sum it up, I’m happy. It pains me to think that I might have missed out on being with someone who compliments me so well if I hadn’t overlooked some of my dating “dealbreakers” and just … rolled with it.

The Frisky Dating, Try Something New