The Third (Kind of) Date

Michael & I are very quickly becoming a "thing." To the point that I now start every sentence with "Michael and I..." My friends laugh at me and make vomit noises, pretending that my sudden happiness makes them want to stick their fingers down their own throats and gag. Actually, they might not be pretending. Watching other people begin to fall in love, at the very crest of their romance is rather nauseating. I wouldn't want to be around it either. But this time, I'm not on the outside. I'm on the inside. I'm one half of a couple who has just realized they have really strong feelings for each other and things are going really well. I'm not just me anymore. I'm someone's partner.

Michael and I (see, I did it again!!!) agree that we cannot wait another week for a third date so we make plans for Friday night. Unfortunately for me, I didn't sleep at all on Wednesday. Seriously, not at all. I was up all night thinking about kissing him. No matter how hard I tried to tell my brain to shut off and get some rest, it simply wouldn't. Every part of me longed for another kiss and there was no way I could go another 48 hours without it. Enter needy girl phase.

He texted me good morning on Thursday as per usual. I confessed that without becoming a Stage 5 Clinger, I was hoping we could sneak in a few minutes to meet up, kiss, and move on with our regularly scheduled lives. I literally walk past his office on my way from the train station to improv rehearsal which became the perfect excuse. I should tell you here that while I promised not to reveal exactly what he does, Michael has a very professional job working at one of the most recognizable and respected names in the media industry. It's impressive.

Walking up to his building blew my mind a little bit. It's like the holy grail of architecture that just happens to house one of the most famous companies in the world. It's someplace every little writer dreams of going to someday, let alone to be allowed inside? I was just trying not to let my knees go out from under me. I felt weak for being in the mere vicinity of this place...and then I saw Michael: twice the reason to grab onto a railing! The sight of him never ceases to get my heart racing. His eyes never cease to mesmerize me. His face never ceases to make me smile. His hugs never cease to make my stomach flip and every rock hard brick of an emotional wall I've spent years building to come tumbling down. And of course, his kisses never cease to spark a million butterfly wings fluttering throughout my tummy, making me feel like a schoolgirl with a crush. Except this isn't a crush. This isn't the star pitcher of the baseball team who didn't notice me through four years of high school (or college, when I chose the same school he was going to. Try explaining that to your parents!) Michael is the real thing.

He kissed me right there on the corner of 40th and 8th for all of New York City to see. Not that New Yorkers notice, mind you. Nor did I feel like there was anyone else around us. You know that scene in Forces of Nature? When Ben Affleck is holding his fiancee in the middle of a hurricane and debris is flying all around them, storm winds swirling, their wedding decorations blowing away, rain falling...but they are in this protected bubble, safe from it all? It's like the world is moving around them but they aren't really in it. That's how I felt being in Michael's embrace. The entire city was moving past us, people walking, horns honking, taxis blasting down the street, ambulance sirens wailing, a million cell phones being talked into at once. I didn't see or hear any of it. Not one sound besides his voice. Not one sight besides his face. Not one feeling besides his kiss. The perfect bubble.

We walk across the street (holding hands, of course) and he tells me that his boss thinks he ran out for a coffee break. So he has to actually go grab a cup of coffee. He asks if I want anything and I say no, I'm fine, but he insists on buying me a Snapple as I've got a three hour rehearsal to get through. It's the smallest gesture and only cost $1.50 but I can't help smiling. He's ridiculously thoughtful and considerate. Two qualities that I think are often overlooked and undervalued in men these days. We cross back over the street to his office building as slowly as possible without risking certain death by speeding cab. He kisses me good bye so softly that I almost think it isn't real. I haven't been so happy in so long that I wonder if any of it is real. Just as I open my eyes to face him again he says "Thank you for coming by. I really needed that kiss too. Just can't seem to stop thinking about you." Then he smiles, wraps his arms around me once more, wishes me a good rehearsal and sighs, "Til tomorrow..."

I am in a good mood for the rest of the night. I meet up with my teammates, staring every sentence with "Michael and I" from Times Square all the way to rehearsal. Three hours of improv later and I'm still not down from my quick-kiss endorphin rush. The girls grab cheesecake after practice and I think I say "Michael and I" another 47 times. Surprisingly, nobody smacks me. They think it's cute or something but the consensus is that they've never seen me this elated and it's best to just let me have my moment. I float back to Penn, counting down the hours until I get to see him again. Fingers crossed that I get some sleep tonight!

Copyright Kimberly Spice 2010