The Speed of Heat

When I met Mr. Match over a glass of wine a month ago, a lightning bolt struck the table between us. I wasn't watching for it, I absolutely didn't expect it. It came out of the blue and showered sparks all over us.

One of the first things he asked me, as we settled into our chairs and began that first-date ritual, was what I wanted. I told him quite frankly that I had been seeing someone for four months and that this man was now in the Pacific Northwest for the summer and I didn't want to spend my summer alone. (And if you've been reading these posts from the beginning, you know that's now a non-issue.) I was facing a holiday weekend and wanted someone to go places and do things with. Before the date was over, I was feeling singed by the sparks! Before the evening was over, I had leaned over and kissed him. On the first date! Because he was just that darling! I couldn't help myself!!

I've grown quite fond of Mr. Match over the past month, and I think we could be quite good together for the "long haul". But it has only been a month. My life has been 673 months long; Mr. Match's has been 753. One month is nothing in that span of time. We've shared stories and dreams and many laughs, and I find myself searching for my crystal ball to see if I can relax and know that, at the least, we're going to continue seeing where this can go.

I don't think I'm pushing him to make a decision, to commit. He asks for my patience and I believe I'm giving it. I express to him my fears when they jump out to haunt me, but I'm not asking him to change his behavior in any way; I'm merely asking him to appreciate that I have fears.

I don't think I'm moving too fast. But it does remind me of the line spoken by Joe Fox's manager, Dave Chappelle's character, in "You've Got Mail" when they're talking about moving forward with relationships: "I always take a relationship to the next level. If that works out, I take it to the next level after that, until I finally reach that level when it becomes absolutely necessary for me to leave."

Yesterday I was thinking about speed in relationships. Doesn't everyone know quickly — or at least believe quickly — that a relationship is going to work? And then I started pondering the proposals I've received in my life.

The first one - well, that doesn't count. I was 18 and stupid. The next one was husband #1. We knew each other for a month, went out for a week, and then he said, "I believe God would have me marry you." Well, who was I to argue with God? I didn't really like him, but my mother had told me I'd never get a man because I was so obstinate. And in the South in the 60s, a woman's primary goal was to get married and have children, so I'd better grab this one because, God [and my mother] knows, this proposal was a fluke. (And to my sons, who were the issue of that marriage, if they're reading this: I wouldn't trade you for anything in the world!) The next two were more normal periods of time from acquaintance to love to marriage. Then there was John. His "Will you marry me" came as we were getting dressed to go to the country club for the wedding. Two months earlier we had been applying for the mortgage for our new home and the processor asked how we wanted to take title. John replied "Tenancy by the entireties." I looked at him, astonished, and said, "You know that means we have to be married." He grinned shyly and replied, "Yeah." (Recounting that story always brings a smile to my face and warmth to my heart.) Continuing: proposal #6, from EEFFH, came the first night he laid eyes on me, after six weeks of e-mails and phone calls. Oh, actually there has been a proposal #7, also on the first night the man laid eyes on me. But I learned my lesson with #6 and never took #7 seriously!

So I guess they weren't all that fast. And I don't think I'm in all that much of a hurry now. I just want to know I'm the focal point so I can relax.

And isn't that what any woman wants — to know she's the center of someone's attention, for that moment in time.

Mr. Match keeps telling me not to worry, to relax. And, really, I am the center of his attention for much if not most of the time — just not when he's out on match.com cruisin' (not crewsin') chicks. ;-)