I had the most amazing evening last night. After our discussion at the pub the other night, and almost non-stop texting and emailing, we went out on our first actual date. We went to a lovely little bistro for dinner. At first, I felt slightly awkward, and asked if he felt okay with it all and he assured me he did. We had an amazing conversation in which we both shared things from our lives that might make our coming together a little complicated. And we talked about sex. I could not believe how comfortable the conversation was - after all, and probably because we'd always been somewhat aware of the chemistry between us, we never ever talked or even joked about sex with each other. And here we were talking about our insecurities, our sexual histories, and what we wished for in a new physical relationship. It was truly amazing. At the end of dinner, he said that he'd planned to invite me back to his place but was afraid now it would seem he had ulterior motives. I said ulterior motives were quite okay with me! "Cheque please!"

I'd wondered, as I started to entertain the idea of allowing someone new into my life, how it would feel to have physical intimacy with someone else. Although the physical part of my marriage was virtually nonexistent, and when it did exist it was completely unsatisfying, I wondered if it would feel strange to be touched by another man after all those years. It did not feel strange at all. In fact, it felt wonderful. 

I have such a good feeling about this!

My 16 year old daughter has been trying to plan out the rest of my life for the past few months. She has decided, along with my mother, that I should become involved with someone wonderfully kind and nice, someone who cherishes me. And they both decided that it should be my old friend, the same one I wrote about yesterday. The funniest thing is that I came to the same conclusion, right about the same time, but didn't say a word to them about it. Also funny is that when I look back to earlier blog posts, I found that I had written about him back at the start! 

He and I met 25 years ago. We were young therapists brought on to start up a new child and adolescent mental health program. I met him the day I was being given the tour of the facility, having just signed my employment papers. We met in the stairwell of this lovely old building, and we talked for 15 minutes. As we walked away, I noticed the ring and thought, "oh rats, he's married". I truly felt an instant connection to him, in a way that I had never experienced before. As it turned out, we had both been aware of a certain chemistry back then. We became very good friends, a relationship that lasted years and eventually included our spouses and families. We have photos of me and his wife together, holding our baby boys (born 4 months apart), and our kids flying down the hill on snow tubes together. I was so shocked when I heard last year that they had separated, and he had the same reaction to our news. We both had the same thought - "they seemed like a perfect couple!" 

As we have been meeting over these past months, for coffee here and there, or a night at the pub, we have provided each other with support and friendship, and always with love and respect. Since I met him, if anyone ever asked me "who is the most decent and loving man you know?", I would have named him. As I have learned more about the circumstances of his separation, my heart aches for him. He has been treated poorly, perhaps even cruelly, and yet continues to show compassion towards his ex-wife and takes on the responsibility himself for actions she has taken that have been hurtful, unhealthy and really damaging to everyone in their family (including herself). It is who he is - he would always carry the burden so as to relieve someone else of the weight. 

A few weeks ago, we went out for a different kind of dinner. It wasn't one of those "we're at the pub anyway we should order food " evenings - this was actually going out for dinner to a nice restaurant where you kind of had to dress up. All through our meal, I kept being blind-sided by this series of thoughts: a) oh man, this feels kinda like a date, b) it feels kinda good that it feels like a date, and  c) oh my goodness, is it okay that it feels good that it feels like a date?  Then we saw each other on Saturday for coffee, as described in a post a few days ago. 

I contacted him this morning to ask if he'd meet me today after work. I knew I had to say something or Friday night would just feel so awkward for me, and he would no doubt feel that (because we have never had an awkward moment between us, ever!). We met at 4:30 and I knew we only had 2 hours because we both had to pick up our kids from work. At 6:15, I still hadn't said anything! I have never been nervous about talking to him about anything, so this was strange for me. He left the table to go to the washroom and when he came back I forced myself to take a big breath and just be out with it. He seemed genuinely surprised, but also seemed to feel the same way. We now had only 10 minutes to talk, so not much could be covered. I received a lengthy and very honest email from him this evening. He shared many of the details of his separation, and about some very complicating factors in his life, adding that he wanted me to know about all of it so that I could change my mind if I wanted to. His message was lovely, and loving, as it would be. I responded with an equally frank and honest email about the baggage I carry from spending 20 years in a hurtful environment. We decided that neither one of us wanted to run away, and that we would go on to have dinner on Friday night, this time knowing it was a date. And it felt kinda good! 

As I wait for spring to truly make its mark around here, putting an end to the longest winter ever (or so it seems), I have been thinking over the path I've taken these past few months. Until recently, when anyone asked if I was ready to meet someone new, my response was consistently that "I wouldn't wish me on anyone", and I meant it. I felt that I was still so mired in the emotional mess of my marriage, and had so many ghosts roaming around my life that it would be unfair to lay that on any unsuspecting new man. Christmas was a real turning point for me, though, and by the end of January it felt like the fog was lifting, as if I finally figured out how to work the sunroof and allow the light and fresh air to pour in again. 

There are a number of people to whom I am grateful, and for many reasons. One is an old high school friend I reconnected with at our reunion a few years ago. He recently separated from his partner, under relatively sad conditions (an affair revealed through cell phone records), and yet he has a wonderfully positive outlook on the whole situation. While not denying his sadness or anger, he's focusing on the good and the solid in his life. He seems able to live in the present and be hopeful about the future, looking back to his past only for the lessons it provides. He's been an inspiration in that sense. He has also provided me with many smiles and laughs, and he's shown me that there is life left in me after all. 

I have told him, just to be clear, that I don't talk to all my male friends the way I do with him. For some reason, there is a sense of safety and an understanding that there are no expectations for any "follow up" on our conversations. I have been able to explore the sexual side of my life a little with him via text and facebook chats. And it has been really fun! We have shared insecurities, past successes and failures in this area of our lives, and have done some shameless (and completely harmless) flirting. I don't think there was a moment when either of us thought we might want to venture into a little romp with each other, just for the fun of it, but the satisfying little tingles created by some of our chats tells me that I'm not dead yet! 

He has been my "get back out there" coach, and has encouraged me not to be afraid of a sexual relationship with someone new. The last time I was "out there" was in the early 1980s - my body was a very different one back then. We talked about that, and he had some practical advice and loads of confidence-building messages of support. We laughed about how in our 20's, time of day didn't matter. Back then, in our late teens and early twenties, it was our parents we were working around and they generally went to bed earlier than we did. But now, we have kids that age, and they are the ones staying up late. So any 50+ action is not going to be happening in the dark of night. When are teenagers asleep and parents up? In the mornings. But at my age, daylight is not my friend anymore! My "coach" (also a photographer) notes that "good lighting is always important", and reminds me that room-darkening draperies are available! Some of our conversations have been a bit racy by the standards of some. But they are held privately and between two consenting adults, so no one has been harmed in the building of this confidence! 

I am so grateful to him for these conversations. I am no less worried about the desirability of this old flabby body of mine, but I am much more confident about firing it up again and allowing myself the pleasure of a physical relationship. It got me thinking about new possibilities, and in the process led me to the realization that my relationship with another old friend has really been shifting of late, and that I could imagine something beyond friendship with him. Thanks to the influence of my "coach", when I met this other old friend for coffee the other day, I found myself examining my feelings and becoming more aware by the second that things had definitely shifted. It's like I was chatting with him, and trying not to look at the elephant on the chair next to him. When it was time to leave, it was all I could do not to reach up (he's very tall) and kiss him. And the thought didn't even seem weird to me at all, although I am sure it would have taken him aback! I have been thinking about it ever since, and our texts have become more like conversations (rather than confirming times and places), and I even boldly flirted a little with him, taking a big breath before hitting "send"!

We are scheduled to meet for dinner next Friday, but I think I may have to see him before then and share my feelings with him. I am afraid that if I say something on Friday, he will say he does not share my feelings and then will feel stuck having dinner with me. The funny thing is that he is someone I have always felt completely 100% safe and comfortable with - I can tell him anything. This might feel a bit awkward, though! But if I don't say something, there will be this weird thing between us, which has never been the case before.