Dating: My Book Boyfriend

He's the man from all my fantasy books

The first time his picture appeared on my iPhone's small screen, I was immediately intrigued. If you've ever read a fantasy novel, especially a steamy one, he was the living embodiment of all my fictional crushes. He had long black hair with strands of silver, complemented by a thick yet well-maintained beard. His facial hair subtly highlighted his sculpted jawline. His eyes were dark and captivating (I swear it looked like the man wore eyeliner). He rarely smiled, but when he did, his attractiveness seemed to intensify, with a perfect wrinkle forming by his eyes, reminding you that he was, in fact, human. His skin was a deep olive tan, and his biceps were as large as my head. His face was almost flawless, except for a slightly crooked nose which somehow only made him appear more attractive. As I mentioned before, he was like a character from a book brought to life, and I definitely wanted to keep reading.

We chatted on a dating app for a while before meeting in person. He was clever, and our banter was fantastic. I had a crush on him even before we met face-to-face. I still recall when he asked for my number so we could switch from the dating apps to texting. He kept asking, but I kept declining. Communicating through the apps felt like fiction, like a story I was crafting and I could control. I couldn't let this man become real. One night, feeling sad before my birthday and dealing with an impending divorce, I was in the bathtub, crying and tipsy from too many espresso martinis. He asked for my number again, and this time I gave it to him. My first text to him said, "Hi. Lol I'm drunk and stupid."

His reply was, "I'm sure you're drunk but not stupid."

Our First Date

I'm freaking out. I haven't been on a date since I was 19 years old, and now I'm 31. How do people do this? What do I wear? Who pays? What if I'm being catfished? And perhaps the scariest question of all, what do I do if he tries to kiss me? I must have tried on one hundred outfits before I finally settled on jeans, Doc Martens, and a cream sweater with a plunging neckline. I paired the outfit with gold jewelry and curled my hair. I reapplied my lip gloss at least five times before my babysitter arrived. I remember actively taking deep breaths, trying to slow down my breathing and racing pulse. The entire drive to the bar, I sat in silence. More deep breaths. More whispering into the air, "You got this. It's just a date. People do it every day." When I finally arrived at the restaurant, I was so relieved I didn't even notice when I almost drove straight into a water fountain in a courtyard outside the restaurant. "Whoops. Hope he didn't see that." I opted for valet parking and started walking towards the bar.

He's real?!

There he was. My book boyfriend. My pen pal. My work of fiction sitting right in front of me. He was wearing a red flannel and dark denim jeans. He warned me that he may come across a bit stoic when we first meet because he doesn't smile much. He was a liar. He smiled almost the entire date. We talked for hours. I don't know much about first date conversation etiquette, but I'm pretty sure we broke all the rules. We covered the basics of work, family, and friends. Then we dove into far more personal topics like my divorce, his father's death, previous relationships, and sex. (That's the topic that really freaked me out.) I was pleasantly surprised to find that his wit and banter translated off text messages into real conversation seamlessly. He was real.

He touched my hand

Before our date, I told him I was planning on painting my nails. He suggested black. I wanted to surprise him by showing up with his preferred nail color. However, the closest color I had to black was a shade called "midnight blue," and since Taylor Swift had just released her new album, "Midnights," weeks before, it was the obvious choice. At one point, our conversation started to falter during the date. That's when it happened. He reached for my hand so he could see my nail polish color better. The second his hand touched mine, the second I felt his skin against mine, all thoughts left my head. My eyes grew wide, and I stared at him with nothing to say. (Which for me is rare.) Butterflies danced in my stomach, and my heart raced. He held my hand, and I never wanted him to let go. To me, it was the perfect first date. My cheeks were red for most of it, and I'm sure I mumbled and overshared the entire time. It didn't matter though; I was real, and he was real, and boy did I have a crush on him. At the end of the date, he walked me to my car, tipped the valet for me, gave me a hug, and told me to text him when I got home so he knew I was safe. I grinned the entire way home. I wasted no time texting him as soon as I pulled into my driveway. "Home Sweet Home. I had a lot of fun, I'd be interested in meeting again if you are."

He replied, "It was fun. Let's do it!"