Dating: The first taste is the sweetest…so far

(Starting a relationship might be fun, but it’s no easy day at the beach.)

Well I’ve really gone and done it now. I started dating someone.

It’s super new and in that delirious cozy bubble where everything he says is hilarious and charming, everything he does is “so cute,” and everything we do together is amazingly fun. I’ve known him for a while. We just never realized we had so much in common until we bumped into each other randomly at a bar one night. Since then it’s been talk, talk, talk constantly until we decided to actually venture into dating territory.

I don’t want to reveal too much for obvious purposes. Suffice it to say that it has started out extremely well. And we are in the super crucial “firsts” stage. You know, first date, first time holding hands, first kiss, first everything. Unfortunately all those firsts aren’t necessarily positive. There’s also the first fart/burp/other gross bodily noise, the first awkward discussion about a crazy ex, the first disagreement about politics or religion.

The beginning of a relationship is so delicate that at first you don’t even really know whether to be happy or scared. I, for one, am scared shitless, but only because I am so happy. Getting dumped at this stage would almost be more devastating than getting dumped three years from now, only because my hopes are so high that I know I’d be crushed underneath the wall of rejection.

Heart Snow
I actually drew this in the first snow of the year and sent it to him one night…what is happening to me?!

I tried to keep it on the DL but you know how that goes – you keep it secret until you just can’t stand not talking about him for one more second and BOOM – everyone knows. Friends are all bouncing off the walls for me because they are so excited.

My friend Liz G-chatted me when she found out and interrogated me for 20 minutes with rapid fire questions about him until she knew his blood type, SSN and favorite color. Chrissy picked me up from my apartment one day, saw us kissing goodbye and stared at me in the car, refusing to move, until I broke down and started confessing.

I am not this girl. I don’t “gush.” I don’t get swept off my feet within the first two weeks of dating someone.


I’m humming in the shower, I’m planning summer vacations in my head, I’m wearing makeup on a regular basis. But one thing I’m not doing – one thing I refuse to do – is running. For some reason, this guy makes me feel so comfortable in my own skin that I don’t feel the need to back off or censor what I say or run. To use a horrible cliche, he is special.

And it’s just an awesome bonus that he wears glasses, sports a beard, and has plaid shirts and Converse sneaks in his closet.