February 20, 2003
Sparkling Diamond
"You have really nice teeth."
Goodness. There is nothing like a swoon-worthy compliment like that to get me going on quasi-Valentine's Day.
"You know I think you're beautiful, but that's not why I asked you out. I wanted somebody with substance, somebody I could talk to."
Now that was swoon-worthy.
Last night proved to be a delicious evening out to dinner at the Grand Finale, both in our choice of entrees, conversation, and atmosphere. Mike wore the funny loafers and I gave him hell for it. I wore the new swishy jean skirt and black boots that made me feel like a teacher, clicking along on the concrete. Throughout the course of the evening, I realized that I am not the only server with a customer voice, that I like tuna, and that talking about marriage, be it possibility or no, makes me cry.
I excused myself to the bathroom, however, for I didn't want him to think it was something he had said, I didn't want him to see at all.
I don't know how we always end up considering it. He asks me where I think we will be in four years and I am literally at a loss for an answer. There is a difference between hope and reality, and I have realized that so fully and painfully that I only allow myself to hope outside of reailty, and any speculation as to their one day coming true is lost to me.
Mike doesn't see us married. Maybe engaged he says, but not married. Then he apologizes.
I don't see him ever married. I can't imagine anyone ever marrying me.
Why the apology?
Sure, I think marriage and almost immediately therafter us. I try to be honest with him, and still I think it comes out skewed and all wrong, and I do not know if this works in my favor or not. Either way, I'll never be able to tell him the whole truth when I myself am party to only a third of it.
I wonder if he changes me. I wonder at the significance of his excitement about me trying new foods and chatting in the candlelight being equal to that of his excitement when my hair is down and my blouse lowcut. I know I love him for everything. Why is it so hard to believe that he could feel the same way about me? Is it because he doesn't, or because I can't imagine it?
And if he doesn't, will he ever? And if he doesn't, will he break my heart as he fears he will?
I know he could. He so easily could.
astera at 12:19 p.m.