You picked me up in your dad’s jeep, and I remember thinking “Thank God he’s cute and he’s normal.” I wore this dress that I prayed made me look thin enough with flats because I remember you were my height. Dodger hat? Standard. I somehow always end up with Dodger fans. We went to Lazy Dog for dinner and you were so nervous. Your laugh was subtle but sweet. You told me your ex-wife cheated with a smile on your face but I could smell residual pain. You were quiet but manly. It was so nice. I felt protected for the first time in a while. And still I knew you were threatened by me. It felt like a rock drop in my stomach on the first date- like it always does. Pulling me down- reaffirming doubt in all the quiet transitional moments, reminding me we will never be able to move together because you can’t find how to lead me. How does this always happen? do I step in front of you? do I block you? do I ignore you? am I not welcoming? Lead. Walk with me. But you’re eyes said no. I want to convince him. You’re worthy. I love that you work in construction and your passionate and you work with your hands. That’s what I like not what I hide, that’s what you hide. I can convince you I’m not too much, I don’t need much, my life is so easy- promise. Fuck.
