. . . Plus Sunday Night at the Movie

Kieffer also had the idea to catch Sunday's late show at the theater instead of the evening show, which opened up a time slot we hadn't talked about before.   I figured it would work out okay with my children, so I said yes, I'd like to go.   We went ~~ the show was cool ~~ and we both feel like we had a great weekend together, not at all what it sounded like at first, which was nonexistent.

Easy Peasy Picnic

What an easy way to spend a hot, humid Saturday afternoon.   Kieffer grilled hot dogs and we ate a picnic of leftovers from his fridge out in his shaded rock garden.   Easy conversation, easy vibes.   We had figured on lunching together ~~ an hour, maybe two at most.

Things were going so well that after lunch we headed to the pond.   He swam while I swung in the hammock under the shade trees.   Then another conversation ~~ this one revealing some facets we hadn't talked about before.   And still easy and comfortable.

Mmmmmm, nice.   :)


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photo credit:   prefers to be unnamed at this time ~ ~ contact Jolene for permissions

His Hot Head, My Cold Feet

Truly, I am very happy that Kieffer cooled off and called back.   But I feel so strange ~~ strained is more the right word ~~ and instead of looking forward to seeing him on Sunday morning, I'm dragging my feet ~~ my suddenly cold feet.   Anxiety ... dread ... I finally settle on "apprehensive" to describe my feelings to Kieffer in an email.   I know if I don't, I'll end up being late and adding stress, or I'll cancel at the last minute, again causing regrets.   So I write ....

And he writes back.   Three times.   With lots of new ideas.   And I feel a LOT more cherished and NOT squeezed into a cramped little slot.   Whew!

Then all of a sudden, like some curse has been lifted, my weekend opens up.   A morning-and-afternoon session is rescheduled, a half-afternoon appointment is found to be non-existent (my record-keeping is haphazard), and I must say this feels like the goddess of fortune blessing our weekend with grace.


Around here they call it the support of nature, and it happens when you let go and let god.

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photo credit:   prefers to be unnamed at this time ~ ~ contact Jolene for permissions

He says, "Impatience got to me"

Kieffer calls me the next morning to say, "Sorry about last night.   I had a bunch of stuff to take care of after getting back and I got overheated and too impatient."

"Aw, that's too bad," I say as my brain grinds into gear.   "How are you feeling now?"

"Better! A lot better," he sounds relieved.   "I went for a swim in the pond last night.   It was so beautiful.   I would have called you last night after I cooled down, but I didn't know if you were still up."

"Oh, I'm a night owl," I laugh, remembering that I was up all night blogging about our phone call, but I don't mention that.   High on coffee and too hot to lie down, I felt fine sitting up doing something worthwhile.   Before journaling, I had seen only two layers of our interaction ~ the words and the heat just underneath them.   The heart's layer had been hidden until journaling jogged the memory of his heart's silent conversation with mine.

So because it had enough time to get its charge together, luck strikes again.   I have no resentment or irritation on my side about his earlier impatience.   I feel like Kieffer and his heart deserve a break, not an interrogation.

Kieffer explains his call, "Usually I feel uncomfortable about stuff like that, but I felt easy about calling you to apologize."

I'm happy to hear that!   "Thank you, Kieffer, I'm glad you called."



So we decide to meet Sunday morning, a possibility that had been overlooked in the heat of moment of the night before . . . .


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photo credit:   prefers to be unnamed at this time ~ ~ contact Jolene for permissions

Busy, Busy

On the surface it's just a conflict of schedules ~ he's busy, I'm busy, and there isn't much free time in the next four days to get together.   Getting together on the phone happened after each had left a message for the other ~ less than an hour of delay in total.   Not so bad, I thought.   But haggling over schedules is starting to feel stressful.

"So maybe we'll get together next week sometime," he says, with a shade of impatience in his voice.   "Since you're so busy with your new classes, call me when you have some free time."

"Sure, I'll do that," I reply.

But I get the impression he doesn't want to wait for my call.   He pushes for faster resolution.    "You know, I'm busy every night of the week," he says, "but I make time for my priorities."

"Well, yeah, that makes sense," I return, "I do the same thing."

He explains, "I'm busy because there's nothing else to do.   It fills the time when I'm not dating anyone."

Whoa.

Dating?

Now it's clear.   The impatience isn't about scheduling.    It's about expectations for two people who are dating.

We're dating?   *I* hadn't seen the memo.   Oh, wait a minute ~ he did say (I had thought it was a joke) that "our first official date" was a family movie night with my children.   Hmm.   I was explicit about NOT dating, pointing out that, besides the fact that I DON'T DATE FOR COURTSHIP, some of his up-front minimal requirements excluded dating me.   Sure we spent some pleasant time together ~ mostly with other people, once on our own, and we had two late night conversations about our worldviews.   Oh, and the last time we saw each other we shared a most amazing hug.   His heart told mine of his passionate nature and of his alarm about opening to vulnerability again.

Then he left for a week.   Now he's back in town calling to arrange a get-together.

Not just a hey-great-to-see-you-again-let's-find-more-time kind of a get-together, which could be tucked into any of several points of almost any day.   Nope.   It has to be an entire evening or a whole afternoon, something significant.   Signifying, probably, some kind of commitment so he can justify opening his heart and his passion to me.

So it's a lucky thing that our schedules are so conflicted ~ lucky that he doesn't want to give up any of his nothing-else-to-do activities ~ lucky that he expects me to give up my enjoyable-new-stuff activities because he liked it better when I didn't have as much to do and scheduling was easier for him.

I say it's lucky because I have no desire to cast away my pursuits ~ my energy is limited and by the time I actually decide to pursue an interest, it's because I'm really turned on about it during that time slot.   I still have plenty of free time in my days, but my free times don't match up with his free times.   In four-hour blocks.   During the coming four to seven days.  

Whew.

And it's lucky because he really is not ready to open his heart and his passion to me.   Part of him hopes he's ready, but part of him knows he's not.

"So maybe we can try in the fall after your classes wind down," he says, now with an edge to his voice.

"Um, yeah, looks that way," I say, glad, like the Roadrunner, that the warning signs of impending doom were so easy to see.

No need to dig any deeper here ~ less said is less regretted.

With a wish goodnight, we ended our call.

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photo credit: Love Noose created by icrush