Approximately 5,270,400 Seconds
Today marks two months since K.L. and I managed to solidify the particular parameters of our association. The story is short and amusing.
I had been invited to a party that a buddy of mine was putting on and I basically asked K.L. to be my date. We were together for most of the party and I can’t count the number of times someone asked me, “So, is that your girlfriend?” This question posed a problem for me and revealed the most sensitive spot in a budding relationship. If I answered yes that would be presumptive but I didn’t want to say no in a manner that was like, “Definitely not!” So I did a lot of fudging and humming and ha-ing. K.L. recounted as recently as last night how amused she was that I was being “grilled” and she was being left alone concerning the matter.
Things finally came to a head as the party was winding down. I don’t remember precisely how it happened, but more or less K.L was put in a funny situation that involved her having to state whether or not we were “a thing” as it were. The host’s girlfriend, Ms. Moore, offered K.L some wine but then retracted saying, “Oh, Numberless doesn’t drink. He’d be offended.” I wouldn’t have been because my drinking habits don’t dictate hers—although, she doesn’t drink either presuming you exclude one instance the two of us were involved in a month ago—but the girlfriend thought it would.
So Ms. Moore got pretty demanding about it asking, “Well, is he your boyfriend because if not you have to have a drink?” With a tone of confidence that actually unnerved me a little, K.L. responded, “Yes, he is.” I found myself thinking at that moment, “This is certainly news to me!” Not that I was upset about it, mind you, but I wasn’t sure if I was a convenient excuse to avoiding drinking some lousy wine or if she was being serious. We stayed a little while longer, and Ms. Moore asked us to send wedding invitations to her when we had picked a date because she was just sure we were going to get married someday. “I have a great sense about these kinds of things. I just know,” she told us.
For the week prior, I had been avoiding the dreaded DTR (define the relationship) conversation like a case of herpes. I was okay with limbo. Just the week before I had asked her, “So do you like me?” And when she answered yes I so eloquently responded, “I mean, do you like me like me.” All I got from that was an, “I think so,” but an email I received later that night clarified things and amended, “I think so,” to “yes.” I was okay with that. Why complicate that with a conversation that starts off with, “So, what are we exactly?”
Her comment, for better or for worse, warranted a DTR right then since, if we were official I should probably know. So I asked whether she was serious or if I was an excuse and although I can’t recall the exact words she used, her attitude and basic statement was something like, “Well, I mean, we are.” It was very matter-of-fact, as if to say, “of course you dork, isn’t it obvious enough?” It was a good night. There have been many since.
She’s the sweetest thing and I know she thinks it’s cliché but I wouldn’t trade any of it for the world. Not then, not now and not last night.