4.

March 18, 1994

Son of a bitch, I'm in love with this woman. I haven't said it, but she has to know.

I think by this point, I was just waiting to hear it, but was also vacillating with does-he-or-doesn't he. I didn't have the nerve to say it first, and I agonized over the idea that we'd only been actually dating for a little over a month, because it seemed far too soon to feel that much. Sometimes I felt like I was fifteen again, all that internal he likes me! squealing, combined with all that adolescent uncertainty of knowing how much.

The way he danced with me made me think he liked me more than just a little, and the way he kissed me made me pray he was falling hard, but then the way he backed off just left me confused. But I knew I loved him, but he was so frustrating I just wasn't 100% sure what he was thinking.

Ian had boundaries; I didn't realize it at the time and he wasn't pointing them out, but they were big enough I tripped over them so many times. I know I had my own; I held men at arms' length for the most part and worked hard at not getting in too deep with anyone. When I was a teenager it wasn't by choice; the boys in my neighborhood and the ones who actually bothered to show up at school were terrified of my father (and with good reason.) I knew they were headed nowhere and wasn't exactly disappointed that no one was beating down my door to ask me out, but it left me hesitant and unsure when I was on my own and starting to realize that not all men were like that, and there were a few that could hold their own with my dad.

When I met Ian I had probably been out with a grand total of four different guys, and it was never anything that would go beyond being just friends. After I met him, and especially after I had spoken with him a few dozen times, something clicked in my head. I still dated, but where I held them at arms' length before, I was practically shoving them away.

I kept telling myself it was just that I wasn't going to settle, and whoever got past that kiss goodnight was going to have to be incredibly special. I didn't realize I was comparing them all to someone I couldn't have. It's not even that I didn't have feelings for anyone else; I did. I was deeply in like a couple of different times, but it never got past that, and for whatever I had brewing inside me, it didn't matter.

Ian was different from the start; aside from the effort he went through just to get me to go out with him, he was just a bit different from the guys I'd dated that I'd actually cared for. I never felt like the was working overtime to impress me; he was who he was and I either had to like that or not, but he was also considerate and thoughtful. He wasn't thrilled to find out I had a cat, but the second time he came to my apartment he brought her treats and catnip toys, and noting how much she loved to jump and climb, he built her a series of staggered shelves on one wall that she could climb up and down to her heart's content.

He listened intently, even to the things I didn't say; when I mentioned off handedly that I'd never been on skates of any kind because owning a pair in the neighborhood was an invitation to get mugged for them, he showed up at my door with inline skates dangling from his fingers—he'd known what size I needed because he peeked inside my shoes when I wasn't looking. When I was terrified on them, he held me steady, skating slowly alongside until I was fairly sure I wouldn't fall—and then he refused to let go, telling me it wouldn't be half as fun if he couldn't hold my hand.

He figured out a way to sit still for me; he doesn't enjoy movies because he has such a hard time sitting there for two hours, but he managed it for me. I never had to ask, and it was a long time before I knew just how hard that was for him.

None of what he did was designed to make me think he was anything more than he was; I'd been watching him too long to fall for that. He was by nature thoughtful and considerate, and warmly affectionate. He even pulled me out of the office one afternoon when it was pouring rain, as cold as it was, just so I could say I'd been kissed in the rain.

A month after we out together the first time, I was falling and had no intention of keeping Ian at arms' length. If anything, I wanted to pull him a little closer, but I tripped over those damned boundaries of his.