Another Nausea-Inducing Post...

It don’t get any better than this.

Sorry – I am still being the annoying friend who makes you want to throw up in your mouth a little. Perhaps when I tell you why, you will understand and forgive me a little bit – and in the meantime, grab your saltines and gingerale, because I think this makes a pretty cute story:

First, the back story: I’ve been dating. I haven’t really blogged about it much, if at all, because really – not many of the dates were worth my time to write about or your time to read about. There was the guy who still lived with his mother, did multi-level marketing, and said “Me likey [this]” or “Me no likey [that]” about everything. There was the guy with gray teeth who called his shiny, jacked-up 2010 Ford truck his “piece” and actually thinks Iggy's has good food. And the guy who apparently did not realize that napkins are generally placed on a table with the intent that they be *used,* and are not merely placed there strictly for decor.

But there were a few I liked: The guy who owned his own business, supplying bathroom fixtures to hotels and condominiums. The systems engineer for a defense contractor. The EMT. The artist.

For a time, I was actually pretty smitten with the business owner. Remember the butterflies post? I had butterflies with him. I didn’t realize it at the time, but that was clue that things were unbalanced - and thus, not right - with him...and it turned out to be the case as he promised (via text and e-mail) to call for four days straight, then went out of town on a business trip *without* keeping said promises, then promptly dropped off the face of the earth after that. Haven’t heard from him since. Don’t miss him.

And it was somewhere around this time that I first read the butterflies article (see previous post), and I realized that what I was feeling for the business owner, wasn’t what I was supposed to be feeling when I found “The One,” anyway. I didn’t want to acknowledge that at the time, necessarily, but it was such a revolutionary thought – that idea that butterflies aren’t all they’re cracked up to be – that it hung with me, still, and I continue to keep coming back to that idea.

I was also supposed to go out with the artist a week or so before Kirk came to town. The artist texted me a couple of hours before we were to actually meet for the first time, and he told me he was sick and throwing up, and he’d explain later. Turns out he'd had a massive hernia rupture, and had to have emergency surgery, and he ended up being in the hospital for the next week! It seems things happen for a reason, though – I never did actually meet up with him.

Because I met Kirk.

And let me tell you: he absolutely *is* worth writing about.

He's awesome.

We have talked on the phone almost every night this week for at least two hours, each time, and we text back and forth several times each day. One of the things I love the most is that, every time we talk, I laugh. And not just polite little chuckles or whatever - but great, big, belly laughs. And, he just...gets me. We have soooo much in common, it's spooky. And being such a “word girl” at heart, I love that he is not shy at all about giving me words - telling me things to make me laugh, things he thinks I’ll think are interesting, the things he likes about me: he thinks it's cool that I'm smart, he's amazed at how I can write, he likes my values, etc. And he does it in ways that seem honest and real and sincere, and not smarmy and calculated or whatever. And I know that he is smart enough that if he were just out for a piece, he would have picked one geographically closer to him - HA!

I may have been smitten with the business owner. But the difference between that, and what I feel now, truly is what the piece about the butterflies described. I had butterflies before. I don't have butterflies with Kirk. Don't get me wrong - I get all tingly in various places when Kirk kisses me and stuff, for sure! - but when I think of being with him, of talking to him, of depending on him, of having a future with him, etc. - it all feels very....solid. Calm. Certain. Right. And I have *never* felt that with anyone - anyone! - before. Not even the ex.

Speaking of which – I was talking to a friend today and told her, essentially, what I just wrote, above. And she asked me, “Don’t you just want to call [the ex] and rub his nose in it that you found someone that makes you feel that way when he never could or would?” And I thought about it for only a half a minute, before I said, “There’s a part of me that would like to tell [the ex] that I finally met someone who actually makes me feel like he never did, except that (and this sounds *cray-zee*) I care for Kirk too much to use him just to take a dig at [the ex]. I could honestly not care less what [the ex] thinks or knows. It's enough for me that Kirk is in my life, period.”

Now, I know some of you are going to say, “Wait!! It has only been 13 days!” or whatever, but I honestly feel like it could be 13 months or 13 years, and it wouldn't matter. I have tried to put on the brakes and be "logical" and talk myself out of it, etc., etc., and tell myself it's just the honeymoon phase or I'm just infatuated or whatever, but there is a little voice in my head that is saying, "Girl, you know yourself better than that. That's not what this is, and you know it." And it is a very calm voice, too. Like, "Tell yourself that if you want to, if it makes you feel better, but at the end of the day, you know that this is it. That this was meant to be." Which is also strange - because the little voice inside my head is usually going all, "No! No! He wears a pinky ring!!" or, "Are you kidding me? He spends more time on his hair in the morning than you do!" or, "You only think you like him - eventually that thing on his nose is going to start bugging you," and I have to tell myself, "Oh, just give it a chance! You can learn to live with a pinky ring!" or whatever.

And that brings me to the latest: yesterday, the defense contractor systems engineer asked me out for this Saturday. I have just totally lost interest in all other guys – even the ones I used to kinda like and think "Mmmm, maybe there's a possibility here...it's worth another date to see....," so I didn't really want to go. But on the other hand, it would be stupid of me to just sit around and pine for Kirk all the time if Kirk intended to go out with other women (I can see how you can be emotionally involved with someone long-distance, but could still want someone close at hand to be an occasional date or a buddy or companionship, whatever....).

So anyway, I said to Kirk, "I have kind of an awkward question to ask, and I'm not sure how to word it. I like things to be spelled out, defined, put in their boxes, so to speak. I've been asked out by someone I've dated a few times before, and I don't know what to say. I don't really want to go out with him – because of you. But if you're going to date other people, it would be foolish of me to say no and just sit home while you're dating - so what are your thoughts on us, on what we are to each other and the status of whatever we have between us?"

He basically said it was up to me - I could/should do what I wanted to do. And I said I knew that, but I really wanted his input, too, since I cared about how he felt about it. He said, "Well, you know, if you want to go on buddy dates or whatever, by all means, go ahead! I'd be OK with that."

"No, he likes me likes me - this wouldn't be a buddy date, at all!" I said. There was kind of a pause. “What would you do, if it were you?”

Finally, Kirk said, "Well, would *I* date? Am I going to date? No. I wouldn't. I couldn't feel about someone the way I feel about you, and go out with someone else. I've never cheated on anyone in my life and I'm not about to start now. So no, I'd have a hard time with that. But if you want to date or go out with other guys or whatever, I can respect your decision - but it doesn't mean *I'm* going to date."

So I said, "That's all I needed to know. I'll tell him 'no,' then."

He was so cute. "Whew!!” Kirk said. “That's a relief! When you first started this line of questioning, I thought you were just going to tell me, 'Hey, I'm going out with this guy and I hope you're OK with it,' and I just got this big knot in my stomach!"

But wait – he gets cuter, as if that were possible:

After he said that, I told him I cared about him too much to just go out and do that to him without talking to him about it first, which is why I wanted to have this conversation, awkward as it was, in the first place. And he said, "I've been thinking this for days, and I wasn't going to say it yet, but to hell with it - I'm just going to come out and say it: I love you. I love everything about you. Talking to you is the best part of my day, and every little thing I learn about you is just something more to love." A girl just couldn’t ask for a better first declaration, I swear.

I keep saying this, and I can't think of any better way to describe it: it just feels so "right." Very centered. Very secure, stable, solid, and real, in a very calm, knowing, sure kind of way. And I *truly* have never felt this way ever before.

So of course I told him I loved him back - because IT'S TRUE! - and then he told me this: when he got off the plane in Phoenix after getting back from Utah, his mom picked him and his brother up from the airport. They were getting in the car, and his mom asked, "How was your trip?" His brother said, "Really good!" and Kirk said, "I think I found the girl I'm supposed to marry." His mom said, "What?!?!" And he said, "In 40 plus years have I said that before?" and she just said, "Nope!" and smiled....and then Kirk says to me, "Oh, God!! I can't believe I just told you that!! How sappy am I?" And we laughed - I said, "Pretty sappy - but I love it!"

And I do. And I love him, too. And I know, I know, you want to go throw up now. Sorry.