Steps

First:
I am overwhelmed by those of you that have come out of your cyber shells to encourage me, support me, and cheer me on. I am humbled and happy that the ramblings of my romantic life have somehow brought hope and comfort to so many. Thank you, whoever and wherever you are. x.
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An amazing phenomenon occurs when you start dating somebody - men suddenly come out of the woodwork, hoping to woo you. Men who once wouldn't give you the time of day before are now banging down your door. Even men who are strangers - on elevators, in airplanes, the El. It's almost as if they have this radar. They're in the soulmate supermarket and suddenly they've been alerted that a 'hot commodity' is flying off the shelf and now they simply must have it.

First, there was 'The Weed' calling me, then there was an old Match.com emailer named Jack. Jack's profile had caught my eye and we had exchanged a couple engaging emails before he suddenly, and without warning, dropped off the cyberplanet. This was about 6 weeks ago. He reappeared just as mysteriously asking me to forgive him for the lapse in communication. I guessed that the reason for the lag was that he had been dating someone, it didn't work out, and now he was back in that supermarket, shopping. He agreed. I responded with my now customary, "Timing is everything" email and clicked 'send'.

I decided to ask my friend Jim about this phenomenom. How I can go months without so much as a look from a man, and suddenly now that I'm seeing somebody, they're everywhere. Jim is a dear friend of mine and has been in a relationship for about 5 months now. Being a self-proclaimed serial monogomist, he's become my male relationship guru. His take? "There's a different energy about you when you're in a new relationship. Your focus is ahead, strong, confident. To a casual observer it's like, 'Wow...I don't know what she's looking at or where she's going, but I wanna find out.' They're drawn to the energy that is coming off you." Interesting.

But what of the Dashing Litigator?

I am standing in my kitchen dressed in blue jeans and a snug black top that bares my shoulders. My shoulders that have been dusted with an iridescent powder to draw attention to my collarbone. I read somewhere that the collarbone is a sexy body part. At least that's what I keep telling myself every time I skip the gym or the ab section of my workout. "Who cares about my chubby tummy, when I've got a sexy collarbone?"

It is another dark, windy night in Chicago. It has just rained and brought about a temperature drop of about 15 degrees. Fall is certainly upon us. I am awaiting the arrival of the Dashing Litigator who should be by at any moment to whisk me away to dinner. It has been three days since I saw him last and the sense memory of our parting kisses still causes a warmth to seep through me, from my toes to my lips, spreading them into a warm, gooey, lovesick smile.

It is Wednesday. And it has been exactly 5 weeks since the Dashing Litigator first stepped into my life and into my heart. I wonder if he will notice the significance of the day? I close my eyes and am shocked to realize how nervous I am. Still. I know this feeling. It is the same that comes on opening night, waiting in the wings, mouth dry, heart racing. It's an excitement; a delicious anticipation mingled with sheer terror.

Much of the anxiety over him...still...is that I don't know what we are. Are we just casually dating? I know that I have no desire to date anybody else. But is he? Has he? Are we inching toward boyfriend and girlfriend status? Is he one of those committment-phobes that doesn't believe in labels? Do I even need a label?

The doorbell.

I don't need a label. I need a drink.

I step outside and he is standing there, too dashing for words, in his suit and smile. (He ended up meeting with a new client at the end of the day and left the office just in time for our date). His first words? "Hello lovey. You look cute. And it's a Wednesday. Can you stand it?" (He did notice).

The Chicago wind is whipping the trees and he pulls me to him, wrapping me in the warmest of hugs, our cheeks pressed together. We are standing that way when suddenly my next-door neighbor steps out onto his porch - his porch that is so close it's practically a Siamese twin to my own porch. We both start to giggle, caught in an act of PDA. I try to free myself from his nuzzling noose, but he just holds me tighter, determined to turn me into the harlot of my block. Look at that shameless hussy canoodling out in the open for everyone to see!

Soon we're off in his trusty truck and he confesses that, for the first time ever, he doesn't have a plan for the evening. I can hardly blame him, considering he's been battling the flu bug of the century for the past three days, spiking to a fever of 104.5, sleepless nights, hectic days. It's a wonder he's alive, let alone there with me now. I'll take the man over a plan any day.

We drive, and along the way I'm telling him about The Weed and how funny it is that he popped up after so many weeks. The Dashing Litigator admits to having some old dates resurface in the past couple weeks, as well.

This is news.

I am holding his strong smooth hand, which is resting on my thigh and I turn to look at him. I'm wondering if he's been dating other people. I decide to act as though he has. And I decide to act as though this is totally cool. It is quite the Tony award winning performance. "Wow! Really? Well, ok. Am I at least in the top five?"

He laughs. "Pleeeeeease."

"Top 3?" I venture.

"Come on. But seriously, no. I can't date more than one person at once. I mean, there was a time when I could - and I did - but at this point in my life? No. I can't do it. I won't."

"Me neither."

And just like that we were dating. Exclusively. Ok, then. I smile and lean my head against the headrest, feeling some of my 'opening night jitters' wane.

Steps. I'm learning that relationships are a series of steps. Some small, some challenging. And over the next few days we will climb a little higher, take a few more: Sharing feelings, step - being vulnerable and revealing imperfections, step, step - meeting a small circle of his friends, including his best friend - STEP - the significance understood with the seemingly small purchase of a toothbrush, step - the addition of a carton of half and half in the refrigerator of a man who takes his coffee black, step, step - and tonight - the Dashing Litigator will be my date for a dinner party being thrown by my director. Every cast member is bringing their significant other, and for the first time in a long time - I, too, have someone rather significant to bring.

And that - for me, anyway - is another big step.