Thoughts on faith, life, and art.
5. First unofficial date.
I had a problem. I had never told a girl I liked her before. How in the world did one go about doing that? “Oh hey, you pretty - me like you!” There I go resorting to caveman speak again… Maybe I should just pass her a note, “check yes or no?” Seriously though, I had liked plenty of girls over the years—but I had never acted on it for all the reasons I’ve already talked about—my past wounds and baggage, the lack of a magnetic snap of “rightness,” etc. But this was different. Remember the advice that I’d hated so much? “You’ll know when you know…” Well, now I knew. But “knowing” didn’t help me KNOW what to do about it. It only told me that I had to do something.
Thankfully, a dear friend of mine had paved the way for me. Almost 5 years before I met Andrea, he had met the woman that he would marry. He modeled for me exactly what it looks like to pursue a woman in a God honoring, and deeply respectful way. I had never seen anyone do that before, but when he did, I immediately knew that was the way I wanted to do things if ever I got the chance. The way this girl came alive and blossomed as a result of his pursuit, was all the motivation I needed. This was clearly the way to do things, and I was so thankful that I had gotten to see it.
But that was my other problem. I only had basic principles to go on—it wasn’t an instruction manual. The first principle was, be intentional. This was a non-negotiable for me. Over the years, I’d had many female friends confide in me about their boy problems, and the story was always the same. They would always complain about the undefined, nebulous state of their relationships. In other words, the guy rarely told the girl how he felt. He either thought it was implied, or was just too afraid of rejection. I would sit there with a frog in my throat as those girls talked about this. I knew that if I had been in the same situation, I’d have probably been just like the guys those girls were so frustrated with.
But here was my friend. He was a man being an actual man—not a scared little boy. Sure, he was just as afraid as any other guy, but he was courageous and told her how he felt anyway! I asked him later why he did it that way, and he told me it was the best way he could honor her. In other words, instead of protecting himself, and his own interests (not being rejected), he protected her and hers. Instead of keeping his cards close, he laid them all out on the table. Talk about the model of sacrificial love, and intentionality! Now she didn’t have to wonder about what his intentions were. If she wasn’t interested, she could just tell him. If she was unsure, at least she knew where he stood, and didn’t have to spend all that energy and emotion trying to figure it out. The point is, he put the ball in her fully in her court and I had never seen someone do that before. It was beautiful.
Now that I’d met Andrea, I knew that I wanted to do the same thing. I just didn’t know how! But I needed to solve that problem, and I needed to solve it fast. We had already scheduled a “creative date.” This came about because I wanted to commission her to paint a painting based on a poem I’d written. If my goal was to protect her from wondering about my intentions, we were rapidly running out of time. The reality of this became even more pronounced when I told my sister I was going on a “creative date,” and she asked, “is it ‘creative’ because the girl doesn’t know it’s a date?” Yikes. Her comment, though said in jest, highlighted the fact that I was just one mis-step away from landing in the very territory I was hoping to avoid—Andrea having to wonder about my intentions. Turns out, she already was.
Apparently, when Andrea had arrived at the location for our creative date, she’d arrived early enough to make a few phone calls. She called a friend and said, “I’m getting together with this guy, but I don’t know if he’s interested in me or not. I’m not interested in dating anyone right now. Should I let him pay for my food if he offers?” Her friend said, “Absolutely not! Do not let him pay. If this is not a date, letting him pay could send mixed signals and really muddy the waters.” Andrea then called another friend and asked the same question, to which her friend said, “Yeah, girl! Get you some free food—let the guy be chivalrous! Don’t over think things.” Ha! Hearing about that conversation months after the fact, was confirmation of just how quickly things needed to have been clarified. It was a bummer to hear that I’d already moved too slow.
The funny thing is, I had also been freaking out and talking to my roommate. I told him that Andrea and I had put this creative date on the calendar on the night that I first drove her home, but it wasn’t until the end of that drive how clear (to me) my feelings were for her. In hindsight, that would have been the right time to tell her. But, I’d missed it. Now, I was getting together with her, and I was afraid it was already too late. It was. But my roommate told me to calm down, and to “be intentional, not intense.” He said that I should just go and hang out with her, and keep getting to know her. If at the end of the night, I still felt the way I did, then I should invite her to something. If she agreed to go, then that meant she was probably interested in me too, and then I could tell her how I felt.
This sounded like a good plan, and I already had the perfect thing to invite her to. A mutual friend of ours was playing a house concert that very weekend. I decided to ask her if she wanted to go to the concert with me “as a date,” at which point I would clarify how I felt about her. Armed with a loose plan, and wracked with nerves, I pulled up to Whole Foods for my creative date with Andrea. Yes, Whole Foods. We’d picked it because we both loved their salad bar, and it seemed like a neutral enough location. Neutral enough to express my feelings without pressure. Anyway, I found her the second I walked in, and we immediately began our journey of looking for just the right goodies to eat. We had such a blast walking around showing each other our favorite foods, and everything had been so smooth and natural, that I was completely not expecting the awkwardness that ensued at the checkout counter.
We both walked up to the cashier at the same time, and I gestured for her to go ahead, because you know, “ladies first.” But then as I was making the hand motion, I realized that if she went first, I wouldn’t be able to pay for her! So, with all the awkwardness of a first date, I gestured for her to go first and while stepping past her to go first myself. The cashier didn’t bat an eye. Which I think is funny, because one time we were at the checkout counter after being married 5 years, and the cashier asked, “first date?” Seriously, am I still that awkward!? Anyway, here we are putting our things on the counter, and Andrea put hers behind mine far enough away to clearly denote, “this is a separate purchase.” I said, “here, let me just get everything,” but she hesitated. I saw some kind of inner turmoil going on behind her eyes. Little did I know she had a friend on each shoulder giving her conflicting advice. “Don’t let him pay,” and, “Girl! Let him be a gentleman!” Not wanting her to feel weird about anything, I told her that it would just be faster for us to do one transaction. Plus, we’d be sharing the ice cream anyway. She conceded, and that was that.
Finally, we began our date! Or, umm, our “creative” date. The night went better than either of us expected. All the awkwardness of the checkout counter disappeared as quickly as it had come. We talked for over three straight hours, and ended up having to leave the store because they closed. Things flowed so naturally and easily that I forgot two very important things. First, I forgot to talk to her about the painting I wanted her to do. That was the whole reason we got together in the first place (face-palm)! Second, and most importantly, I forgot to invite her to the concert, and tell her how I felt. (double-face-palm)! I think it's because near the end of our “date,” she asked me if I could give her a ride home since her mom had dropped her off. I was thrilled to get more time with her in the car, but, I think that little deviation from plan contributed to my forgetting.
After I dropped her off, I was on cloud nine. I couldn’t even process all the emotions I was feeling. We’d had such an amazing chemistry— and that’s when it hit me—I forgot to invite her to the concert! Stupid, stupid, stupid! How could I be so stupid!? Feeling like a complete failure, I pulled into my driveway wondering how in the world I was going to salvage my mistake. But that’s when my phone lit up. It was a text from Andrea. She thanked me for taking her home, and told me that she’d had so much fun hanging out with me. I immediately replied that I felt the exact same way, and that I had totally forgotten to ask her if she wanted to go to our friend’s house concert the next weekend. I wasn’t about to tell her “why” over text. I’d already blown that opportunity when we were face to face. But, at least I could tell her my feelings the night of the concert. It hadn’t been the plan, but now I had to improvise.
I held my breath for what seemed like an eternity until she finally replied saying, “That sounds fun, I would love to go!” I don’t know how, since I was sitting in my car, but I did three back flips right there on the spot. Okay, maybe it was just mental back flips…. But needless to say, I was elated. I was also terrified! I had to go a whole week with the “express my feelings” conversation looming over me. The silver lining was, at least now I had a week to prepare just how I was going to tell her. That made me feel a little better knowing that preparation was way better than off the cuff. Right? Wrong. Turns out it was torture! And! The more I prepared, the worse my “practice speeches” went. By the time the night of the concert came around, I couldn’t string two words together to save my life. But, that’s a story for next time. (posted 03-14-22)