N is the man that I'm dating. It's weird to say that, because I have been -- and sort of am -- dating several men. I won't stop handing out my card unless I'm exhorted to. I won't stop playing these boys until I'm explicitly instructed not to.
But there's something about N that makes me talk frankly and forget all of my practiced lines and my perceived coolness and all of the Rules bullshit that I've played for these past six months.
I asked N out impromptu today, flouting the Rules, and he dropped everything and came. That was nice. He likes me. I like him. We sat at a banquette at a Thai place in my neighborhood that I wasn't sure still existed, and I heard the background music clearly.
"This is the song my parents danced to for the first time," I said, sipping from my glass of very decent Cotes du Rhone.
"That's weird," he said.
"Oh. Is it?" I said.
"It's a good omen," he said.
And he kissed me.
It's strange to fall for someone again.