Conversation Chemistry

I would just like to say, before I begin, that it has finally happened... I have officially lost my mind. I was about to leave the house last night to see a friend's play in San Francisco but I couldn't find my keys. I searched everywhere, overturned my sheets and comforter, looked through purses I haven't used in weeks, and felt around in every nook and cranny I could think of. Nowhere. I had to leave so I gave up the search, got out the spare car key, dug around for the extra set of house keys I give to visitors when they're staying with me, and took off for the theatre. My boyfriend met me there and then followed me home after the show (such a stalker). The first thing I did when we got to my apartment was write down (in the notebook I use as a means of communication) "I can't find my keys... anywhere." He started helping me search, asked me when I had seen them last and tried to retrace what he imagined to be my steps. I started looking in redundant places, feeling around on the bed to see if I'd missed them the first six times I looked there, going in and out of the bathroom a few times just in case my eyes were playing tricks on me, then to the desk, then back into the bedroom. My apartment is TINY, they have to be SOMEWHERE! I heard chuckles coming from the other room and poked my head in as he said, "Well, I found them. After you eat, what's the first thing you do?" I walked into the kitchen and there they were, lying innocently abandoned in the stainless steel sink next to a few stray dishes I hadn't gotten around to washing. What the...? How the...? I doubled over with laughter and, try though I did, I could not contain myself. Silent laughter quickly turned into a full-blown belly laugh. "I have never done anything like that before in my life" I scrawled in the notebook, through the tears of laughter that had formed in the corners of my eyes and were now beginning to trickle down my face. It was a good laugh, a necessary laugh. "I know you're not supposed to" he said, "but I love hearing you laugh."

The day after I posted the blurb on my OkCupid profile that I was taking a break from dating (I'd just signed up in February and had only met a few people face-to-face anyway) I received a message. The subject line read "So sorry we've lost you." The message was amusingly witty and compelled me, just for shits and giggles, to check out his profile in return. Damn. I responded with, "After reading your profile I'm sorry we've lost me too." I remained adamant about not dating but we started corresponding and, despite our polar opposite career paths, came to find we had an astonishing amount of things in common. We decided to meet, and we set up a non-date (as I insisted on calling it) for 9:45 PM at a restaurant in San Francisco. Just to give you the context of time, this was the very same day I had my sobbing fit during the "good-bye old voice" ritual, and directly after the rehearsal wherein I discovered that I could truly let go of identifying myself by my old voice.

We sat across from each other at a two-top against the wall. I was pretty sure he could hear me without having to strain my voice so I was careful not to compete with the ambient noise. Fifteen minutes into the non-date it was like we were old friends. Conversation was easy and we even had a little banter going, like it had been our routine for years. "Are you sure we're not related?" I said in jest, as a comment on how alike we seemed to be. "That would make things a bit awkward later on," he replied, but I ignored the insinuations of such a statement and kept my mind on building a friendship. I was, after all, NOT on a date. After dinner we drove down past Crissy Field and walked around under the GG Bridge, making our way to the sand where we kicked off our shoes, rolled up our jeans and stepped into the water. It being a sandy beach, I naturally assumed that the ocean floor was also sand (it certainly didn't feel any different to my feet), but I was (literally) sorely mistaken. Two steps in, my left leg slipped into a hole that separated the rocks beneath me. Ouch. I was instantly soaked up to my hips and if I wasn't cold before, I certainly was now. My ankle had twisted on the way down through the rocks and as I hobbled back to the car I hoped all it needed was a little walking off. Once in the warmth of the car, I inspected my ankle and discovered that it was bleeding chocolate (the blood, I assessed, was brown from the sand) and proudly displayed my battle wound. "Oooh, you should take a picture of that," he said, but I was sure he was thinking, "damn, what a klutz." He drove me back to my car and we shared an awkward hug (the first awkward moment in our four-and-a-half hours together) across the median of his car. "I'd do it again," he said. Well, this was STILL not a date, but I'd do it again too. "Next time I'll come to your neck of the woods," I replied and I bid him adieu and trotted across the street to my car.

The next day I received a text from Jason (as I shall call him, since that's his name) asking when he was going to see me again. We continued to email and text throughout the week and made a plan to meet that Saturday night (the day after my appointment with J). I wandered over hill and dale to get to his house; barefoot and uphill both ways. (Okay, he doesn't live THAT far away.) I got the abridged version of the house tour and then we drove to his favorite local restaurant. At dinner he asked me why I was taking a break from dating and I explained as best I could. It goes so much deeper than "oh I have to heal my voice," and proved to be a bit difficult to articulate (as it was the first time I was trying to put it into words) but he's an intelligent man and seemed to fill in the blanks on his own. After dinner we played pool at his favorite local bar and were having a grand old time. Once again conversation flowed, and if I'd sat back to analyze it I would have been in awe of the ease with which we seemed to be conducting ourselves and relating to one another. On the walk back to car he said, "So... if the right person came along would you consider entering back into the dating world?" I smiled inside and out. Referring to our outing as a non-date the whole night had not deterred him from broaching the subject, and who could blame him? We had an undeniable connection on a level I rarely achieve with the people I meet. "Well, if said person really understood that I have to be, essentially, selfish right now and focus a lot of energy on the process of my recovery then, yeah, I'd have an open heart and an open mind about it." He didn't say another word about it. We got back to his place and went for a long walk around his neighborhood and just talked. We had great conversation chemistry which is of the utmost importance to me, and I was quite enjoying our time together on this, our second non-date.

After the walk I needed to head home because Sunday was going to be a very long day. We sat on his stoop for a few more minutes and then it was time to say good-bye. I reached out for a hug and as the embrace released he said, "I really want to kiss you." What's a girl to do? As it turns out, conversation isn't the only chemistry between us. It was a short but amazing kiss and I got in my car and drove off. Not ten minutes later I got a text message that said, "I know you're not looking for anything right now but I really like you and want to see where this goes."

And with that, I must go. It's my last night in town and I'm attending the opening night of a (different) friend's play in the city. I shall continue this tomorrow, though you already know it's heading toward officiality. And yes, I know that's not a word....