Our first date and he made my head spin. I couldn't think straight for an entire week, such was the degree of my infatuation. He confused me with his lack of initiation, I felt like I always had to push to get him to set dates. Maybe he wasn't that into me? Maybe all that sweet talking was shared between me and every other girl he could find? And then just when my heart and I would close up a bit, just when we'd finish a crying session in bed on a Friday night, he'd draw us out with his wonderful acts of care: making me breakfast tray of PB and honey sandwich, cut up apples, and lemonade at 5am - I told him I couldn't sleep because I was hungry, filling up my near-empty soap dispenser with water and shaking it, purposely losing in billiards (something he was really good at) like a gentleman, grinning at me from across the table because I knew he was doing it on purpose.
Slowly I realized he acted that way because he was shy. So I opened my heart up to him, ready to accept him unconditionally, despite the obvious risk. Soon he was calling me after my texts.
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