An Unexcepted Epiphany

For the first time in four years I was reminded why people go on dates.

Because it can be fun.

Hate me if you will. I am a college aged male in Happy Valley, and in the last four years I can remember going on 7 dates. That's less than 2 a year. I can hear the riots readying. The main point why is because before two nights ago, all my post highschool dates sucked. Blame me for making the date horrible, I don't care. It very well could be my fault, regardless of who is to blame the dates were no fun. This led to me dragging my feet when it came to asking out girls. When I finally asked out a girl terrible things would happen.

If I happened to ask a girl who knew me (from highschool, singles ward, or something) and they knew of my repuation of never asking girls out, they would freak out. Assuming I was deeply in love with them (Ryan asked ME? He never asks anyone) they would remain detached and aloof for the night, making a horrible experience. There is one exception to this, but she was absolutely crazy and made it even worse than the girls who needed to distance themselves from me to spare me any emotional heartbreak.

The second group is girls who didn't know me, so the was the no reputation to procede. These also never worked out. I don't want to get into the semantics. Just believe when I said they didn't.

So with each proceeding date, the gap between conjucting dates increased. I'm sure my social skills atrophied in the process making the situations compoundingly awful, which then leads to a longer gap, which leads to more atrophing. See the cycle?

I figured I wouldn't bother dating again until grad school. This isn't a self pitying pathetic mind set. Rather I've been having a blast with life and I was less happy when I got people involved. I figured when I needed it I would know.

Then two nights ago...

Ugh. Absolutely wonderful. There were never any lulls in the conversation, ever. She never seemed disctracted or bored. For the first time in four years I felt I had a date's full attention. When a distraction did occur (it was my fault, Alex called), rather than making it an awkward moment, she took the phone and chatted with Alex for a while. It was so well played, she kept herself from being left out. She did it without making me feel like a jerk for taking a phone call (which I shouldn't have, I'll admit) on our date.

We went to the Old Spagetti Factory. Delicious. It was comfortable and easy. I felt that I could say anything, and I wouldn't have to feel stupid or worry about being judged for my comments. When I committed a dreaded faux pas while eating she just laughed it off with a cute comment.

Next we headed up for Salt Lake for the activities. The drive was nice. I've never allowed (with the exception of Alex) someone to plug their ipod into my car when mine was present. I let her, and I've never enjoyed such terrible music. It was an eye opening experience.

At Salt Lake we went to the Clark Planetarium (woo). We caught an imax film about the climbing in the Andes. Afterwards we got some icecream.

Here is something that I'd like to mention here. Many people will hate me for this, but it was something that just made the whole experience that much better. We went dutch (in a sense). I payed for dinner, she payed for the movie and laser show, and we payed for our own ice cream. I can hear tons of people calling foul. Yeah, consider me a cheapskate if you want. The money wasn't an issue. If I needed to, I would've payed for it all. But the fact that she would pay for some of it made me feel... special. That she wasn't hanging around for free food and entertainment. In fact, she would plunk out some money just so we could play on a Friday night. It really let me know that she cares about me, and breaking past the social norm to do it, made it all the more poignant. It felt wonderful to know I was a companion, someone who mattered, and not a ticket to free food and a movie.

Anyway, I'm glad I said that. Believe it or not, but guys occasionally need validation too.

Going on. The icecream was delicious, then we watched The Wall. Super trip. It was so much fun. And it hit me. I wanted her there. I knew that from the beginning, but something inside of me asploded while we watched the laser show. It wasn't just that I wanted her there (that happens with people occasionally), but I wanted her there more than I wanted to be alone. And it was mutual, she wanted me there. She wanted to share this experience with me. More so than sharing it with someone else, or keeping it alone.

I can honestly say I have not felt that in such a long time. And that's when I remembered why people go on dates. You can have fun. And you want to share it. And when that person realizes that they want you around to enjoy this with them, you feel loved. You feel like you matter. That you aren't an island. That if you hurt, they'll be hurt by the merit that you're sad. But more importantly, they'll try to rectify it and make it so you aren't sad anymore. And when you laugh, you're laughing together. Things are done in sync. You do things for the other, and it's not as a favor or a gift. Rather you do it because you want to see them smile. Because the two of you are connected, and when one smiles both are lifted. And the thing that makes them most happy, the thing that will make them smile more than anything, is you. So you give your undivided attention, and they love it. And they give you their undivided attention, and you love it.

That's what was going through my mind anyway.

After that we cruised Salt Lake, putting on our favorite love songs. The three I put on were Taylor the Latte Boy by Christin Chenoweth, Everything by Micheal Buble, and Brand New Colony by the Postal Service.

We ended up at a little park overlooking Salt Lake. We stared at the lights of the city from our swings and talked about our former lives (that sounds weird). We ended the night talking about things very important to us.

And I'll never ask her on another date.

Hate me for this, I don't care. She's not mine. Her heart belongs to someone else. I understand that, and I'm so happy for her. But this amazing woman taught me things that I had forgotten. Things that I needed to be reminded of. And I am so amazingly thankful that after all she has done for me, she gave me this last gift of knowledge. That I can be loved, that there are people out there that make me happier than I can make myself.

And for that I thank you. I thank you more than I can express. I've got a renewed hope and zeal, and life seems a little less dark, because you spent some time with me. Thank you.