Hope Floats


This whole dating experience is so different than what I have previously known.  Actually, I can’t say I even really dated much before.  In the 40-something years I’ve been alive, contrary to every effort I have made, I have grown up some and learned a few things.

I had one real boyfriend my senior year of highschool.  I was very naive. He was remarkably respectful. I didn’t know anything about dating or guys.  I don’t know the actual definition of the “bases”, but other than holding hands and some kissing, there was no other skin-on-skin contact.  I know I ended it, but I can’t tell you why.

It has been discovered there are “daddy issues” in my psyche. No, nothing sick or perverted.  Wow – could you imagine the person I’d be if I had been particularly scarred by abuse. I’d probably be like Aileen Wuornos with a tide of dead men in my wake.

So, via Meatmarket.com I have gone out with one guy a few times.  If you’ve kept up w/ this blog (all 3 of you, including my mom – which does limit some of the details, sorry folks) you’ve heard about him already. After 4 or 6 or so dates, some more formal than others (steak dinner to Taco Bell) he had not even kissed me.  Actually he’d not even touched me.  (Well, this one time he did in Wal-Mart, but it was more of an accidental bump while we were standing next to each other. I (gently) hip checked him back, but that was the end of that.) So, I wasn’t totally sure how this would pan out – did he like me like a woman or was I turning into a dinner pal? You know what – I didn’t even care.  He was a nice guy, we chatted, he kept coming back.

So, this past weekend we went kayaking.  He owns a facility down on the Satilla river. Waiting for the morning fog to burn off, he showed me around the place and talked of future plans.  That afternoon, we packed up a picnic lunch and headed out.  The river is lined with cypress and other trees. We paddled up river into some of the back water ponds.

We could’ve been the only two people in the world.  The sun was shining through the trees, sparkling on the quiet water.  We were floating in the woods.  I got lost and was brought to tears by the sheer beauty of God’s world. The bees brought the woods to life as they flocked to the first early blossoms of spring under which we gently stopped; fish jumped near by; turtles sunned themselves on the logs; bird hunted for early spring grubs in the trees. The sun warmed my heart bringing hope to the future.  It was surreal.

When we stopped for lunch he said, “This is my world.”  Fortunately, it is my world, too, if I stop to enjoy it.  We paddled for hours in the middle of nowhere amongst everything. We walked in the woods.  We laughed.  We joked.  We shared. It was real. I wasn’t trying to impress him, he wasn’t trying to impress me.  Maybe we were  No, we weren’t.  We were ourselves spending time together.  He wasn’t all ooey-gooey romantic trying to get in my pants and I wasn’t all dolled up vying for his attention.

I was a zillion miles away from everything and everyone. I had no cell reception (which should tell you just how far away we were from civilization – and that was incredible in itself.)  I could never find that place again.  I left there safe and sound with a drop more love in my heart than I went with; love for myself and hope for my future.

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