It happened last night.
Jose asked me to be his girlfriend, after a month of dating, after countless text messages, phone calls and so many well-placed kisses. Quietly, he swept me off my feet.
I am truly happy. No joke. No lie. The air I breathe seems clearer. My mind is so at ease.
I fear nothing and no one.
I look to the future, hopeful and unflinching.
With Jose at my side, I know I can develop something meaningful and heartfelt. I know we can do great things together. I know we can turn this wonderful little romance into something amazing, that is bigger than both of us.
My heart has been soaring.
***
We met up for movies and dinner, no big deal. I had already told my friends I was determined to "DTR" or define the relationship. The hook ups, one night stands and flirtation had to end. I wasn't going anywhere, except further into the abyss or faster into having my heart stomped on. The lightning bolt affair of love and wonderment that was Jay snapped me into focus. Second chances mean everything.
Jose was there....primed and ready to be my one and only. There he was, sitting in his cute Corvette with a huge grin on his face.
Holding hands all during the movie. Kissing in the car. Smiling just because. Dinner at Dino's. Coffee at Starbucks. Finally, I can't chicken out anymore. I won't. I ask him what his intentions are: is he interested in a relationship with me? Because I want one with him....and then I just start outlining my intentions. I need him to hear me out.
And he's just looking at me with those big, round dark eyes. His eyebrow cocked. His mouth slightly agape. He searches my face for clues. I'm talking and he's just staring at me, digesting every word that I'm saying. When I finish, my face is blazing hot. My cheeks are burning and my heart is slamming in my chest. I look down at the table and fiddle with my napkin.
"So uh...yeah....that's how I feel...and though I haven't always been the most traditional, I'm going to be old-fashioned right now...I can't ask...you.." and my words trail. I muster the courage to stare back into those huge brown eyes, perfectly framed in his glasses.
His turn to speak....and he nods his head and confesses that he's sometimes wondered what I was thinking.
"I'd be at home and think to myself....wait, are we together?" and he breaks into his signature Jose laugh. It breaks the tension and I laugh, too. But he keeps us on course. His eyes flicker and in a voice barely above a whisper...while I'm looking away....he asks:
"So do you want to be my girl?"
The weight of the last three years is gone. In an instant.
"Yes! Yes! I would love to be your girlfriend! Yes! Yes!"
And the rest is a blur. A happy, beautiful blur. We finish our coffees. We sit in his car listening to music. We try in vain to update our Facebook status to "in a relationship." We kiss passionately, harder and more intense than we ever had before. The air is electric. I feel his lips brush past my collar bone and it's like all of me is sighing at once. I grip the collar of his shirt and slide my fingertips across his chest. The lesser me would have pawed at him and begged him to let me blow him. But I'm on another level. A higher state of mind. Jose is not that kind of guy. He traces his mouth across my ears and pushes my hair away from my neck to get better access. I feel him touch my dangly heart-shaped earrings. I feel a warm shiver. When I pull away, panting, my eyes begging for more he just looks back at me in the dark with steady eyes. This is as far as we can go right now. All in due time.
"Uh oh. Look at your back windshield. All fogged up" I murmur as I plant a kiss on his forehead.
"Look what you've done!" he whispers loudly in mock anger. And we laugh, like always.
This isn't the end of this blog. This is just a new chapter. A new voyage. A new space inside of my heart. I want to catalog it. I want to cherish it. But most of all, I want to grow with it.
I want to change in a positive way for Jose. I want to learn from him. And I want us to flourish.
I want to be all he deserves.
He deserves it. And so do I.
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