I recently went on what I can only describe as the most romantic date I have ever been on in my life. The guy, who I’d already hung out with and gotten to know, and whom I already really liked, found a wine bar in a great neighborhood that we both loved. For the record, I love wine, especially red, and I was flattered that he had already taken the time to find a place that catered to my interests. Leading up to the date, my excitement was ridiculous – there was going to be an award winning acoustic guitarist there, and the menu was mouthwatering. Throw in this guy that I already had a great connection with, and I was positive that it was going to be perfect.
And oh, how perfect it was. We sat in a secluded corner of the loft overlooking the entire restaurant – we could see everyone, but no one could see us (which was probably a good thing.) The music was amazing, and we sang great covers of classic songs to each other after eating one of the best filet mignon I have ever had. It was that night that I decided that this dude was going to be sticking around for a long time. He was going to be my boyfriend.
But the weird thing is, that nearly every time I go into detail about this fantastic date, how perfect it was, how much thought he’d put into it and how much planning he did before had, my friends were unimpressed. This made absolutely no sense to me – why was this guy, who I have found to be the most perfect example of what a boyfriend should be, being brushed off as merely average?
Trying to figure this out, I examined the reactions of the friends that I had told. Two of them – the two that I told first and that knew the best the way I’d been treated in the past – were nearly as ecstatic as I was. They understood how special this guy was, how much I appreciated his gestures and would continue to do so in the future. Other friends, however, did not know the stories of boyfriends past. They did not – and still do not – understand that in my past, normal has meant maybe one subpar date before expecting to sleep with me. Normal was me covering up parts of who I was to make someone else happy. Most importantly, normal up until this point has been settling for less than I deserve because I was lonely and craved attention.
I’ve gotten past that part of my life now. I have gotten away from the “normal” that was my depressed state and have gotten back to the weird that I enjoyed before I started over thinking everything. And I’ve found someone who appreciates that, who celebrates that, shows it off. So even though I’ve found someone whom everyone discounts as normal, I will continue celebrating him as abnormal and amazing.
And my hope is that everyone finds someone like that – someone that is viewed by your closest friends as someone who is amazing for you, who is perfect for you. For me, that happens to be a half-deaf extrovert that compliments my incredibly loud voice and introverted ways.