Six years ago… today. I can remember the day like it was yesterday.
It was a Thursday. I could barely concentrate during the day, thinking about what I would wear and how the night would pan out.
I remember racing home, jumping in the shower, blow-drying my hair and carefully setting my outfit out for very our first date.
We had started talking two weeks earlier, via email/Facebook. I gave him the wrong phone number (by accident, I swear!) We shared a lot of the same interests. He loved sports, he had a great career, he had (and still has) the same group of friends from high school and college (which says so much about a person!), he did a short stint down in Long Beach (we lived around the block from each other that year and had some mutual friends, but we never met!)
After much discussion, we decided on Thursday night at 7 pm. He would pick me up. He had described his car to me in a previous phone conversation. I guess he already knew I would be on the lookout.
Around 6:45 pm, I started to peek out the windows of my house. I watched as the same car he had described, pulled up next door. Confused, I texted him.
It wasn’t him, he said. He was about 8 minutes away.
Slightly embarrassed (Ok, very embarrassed), I took a seat to try and relax. My father took over the job of watching out the window. At 7 pm sharp, he arrived. I kissed my Dad goodbye and dashed out of the house. He got out of the car, opened the door for me and we were on our way.
He had made reservations at George Martin’s Steakhouse in Rockville Centre. He opened the car door and the restaurant door (very chivalrous). He ordered a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc for us because he knew I liked white wine (and I later found out he only drinks red).
We talked. And laughed. And talked. And laughed some more… It was easy. It was effortless.
Yes, I was nervous. But I was comfortable… the conversation flowed. Before our first date was over, he had asked me on a second one… this time he would cook for me. I was impressed and already excited to see him again.
Before we knew it, it was 10:30 pm… the waiters were pacing back and forth, the bartender was counting his money. We were the last ones in the place. The night went by so fast, I did not want it to end.
We were still chatty as he dropped me off at my house. I remember feeling giddy. It was such a great first date, and I couldn’t wait for our second one. I could barely sleep that night. I kept replaying the night in my mind. The whole night seemed very different from other dates I had gone on in the past… I felt like this was the beginning of something pretty amazing…
…and it was…
I didn’t know it then, but it would be the last first date of our lives.