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Our First Date

He took me out to the “city view” near the Stella hotel, a suggestion from his good friend, Clay. It was a gorgeous night. We walked up the 3 flights of stairs (me, in my wedges, he, in his Allen Edmund loafers). Somehow climbing to taller heights make things a tad more romantic than ground level. I thought it was the perfect spot.

Looking out from the top, you could see a good portion of the city. It was just the two of us there, which made it especially nice. It was dim, breezy and quiet and the city lights were shimmering off in the distance. An author of a novel might describe the setting with words like dreamy or whimsical, yet casual and comfortable are the first to come to my mind.  

We stayed there for a while. He made clever jokes and I genuinely laughed. I was not expecting such entertaining wit from this new friend, but he was surprisingly humorous. These fun moments were probably my favorite pieces of the night.

While at the top, he asked for a picture.



We walked back down to the grounds area and sat by the blue fountains spraying in the lake beside us. We chatted about spiritual things and past stories and even a few deeper secrets.

Later, on our way home, we took an unanticipated turn off into his old neighborhood where he showed me his old house, a friend’s old house and then told me wonderful stories about an infamous “Candy Lady” who lived on the corner.

Then he drove me home.

When we arrived he began to walk me to the door, he is a gentleman. As we were sweetly talking our way down the sidewalk, we heard the escape of my Golden Doodle. You know, that dang dog with the worst timing of all dogs? He sneaked through the backyard gate, (as if he knew I was getting home RIGHT THEN) bolted right past us, and headed straight for the tree in the front. Oh great. I knew exactly what was coming.

“SPY! You dream killer dog! Go back to the back yard! GO!”  I looked at Byron. He looked at me, confused, “What’s he doing?”

“Oh. He does this. It's like his favorite thing. He thinks he's saving us from the ferociousness of some terrible beast, but it's usually just some random rodent. Last time he did this, I called the Hurst Police Department because I thought he was barking at an actual intruder. They came out with their flashlights and their guns...But nope. Just a varmint. I should've known Spy was out to get me."

Sure enough, he had just cornered an opossum. Sweet Byron, “Well, I’m not leaving you with all this going on. I’ll help you get him back.”

“Uh huh, okay.”

The rest is somewhat of a blur, the two of us trying to call my Golden Doodle away from an opossum. The dog was completely ignoring any and all of our attempts to distract him and was yelping uncontrollably. The opossum was growling, hissing, charging, and in full-on attack mode. Byron and I finally resorted to throwing sticks at both of them, yelling Spy’s name (this seemed extremely pointless in retrospect), all while praying none of the neighbors woke up since it was way past midnight.

I think that was when he first started to fall in love with my dog, Spy. He hasn’t admitted that yet of course, but I can see his eyes soften anytime I bring up my Doodle. I think they bonded that night; no, I’m sure of it. Deep down, I know they have a very special relationship.  

We laughed, a lot…and then with an affectionate hug, he said 'goodnight'. 

Somehow, even in the midst of the crazy walk to the door, I ended up having an extraordinary time with this man, so much fun. And as I think back, nothing really astounding happened…but when I went to bed that night, I wondered how this man had left such a distinct impression on me. I didn’t know him super well, and I had been impressed before, but tonight was a hint more noteworthy…I remember thinking as I drifted off to sleep, “I think this man might have already left a little mark on my heart.”

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