Member-only story
Two Dates
Moments from a decade-long love
September 2014
“Let’s choose a house,” Paul says, pulling me over to the realtor’s office. The street is sleepy for a Saturday night; dark, too. Apart from the stars, the only source of light is the one spilling onto all the ‘For Lease’ and ‘For Sale’ signs in the window.
“Which one do you like?” Paul asks, squeezing my hand. I laugh — partly in disbelief, but mainly in wonderment. What other answer can I give? We're 24 hours into our first date.
February 2024
“Do you remember doing that?” I’m laughing again, cheeks flushed with humidity and tequila. This is a well-trodden bend on Memory Lane, yet I still get the same sense of wonder every time I stray down it.
“Do you understand that if anyone — anyone — else had said that, I would have gotten The Ick?”
It’s true, too. The alternative feels almost as real: another person, faceless, nameless, pulling me to the window. Saying the same thing. A bloom of panic in my gut. A laugh — this one forced. A subtle bail-out message sent to my best friend. A garbled excuse. A quick getaway.
“I didn’t even know you, but I immediately felt so comfortable with you.”
