Today is BFD’s test on his injury.  I shot him a quick text as I knew he’d be driving there to say that I was hoping for the best possible outcome.  He called immediately as I was dialing someone else, so I missed the call.  I called him back and we spoke for a few minutes, made tentative plans for mid-week, and were just generally there for each other.  I know it sounds routine for normal people in a normal relationship, but for us this small shift felt momentous. It was hard to hang up the phone and we listened to the silence.

As soon as I hung up, I received a short, poignant text response, letting me know that he is scared.  (I assume he sent it immediately, but I did not receive it for a couple of minutes.)

We chatted a bit about the Fourth Not Great “Eh” Date.  He loved it.  He liked my friends.  When I asked him if he wanted the reviews, he was baffled.  It never occured to him that the response would have been other than it was — that they liked him very much and they saw what I saw in him.  He looks forward to seeing them again and he mentioned how much more fun that was than “a stiff dinner.”  I said, well, none of us were at our best, so we look forward to meeting at a happier time.

I also think he liked being around a group of guys who are his general age.  He is definitely more worldly, more successful, and more sophisticated than they are, but I think they can find a lot of common ground.  I mean, my friends are all successful lawyers, so we’re not talking apples to oranges.  We’re talking golden delicious to fuji.

The weird thing is that it’s all starting to feel more normal and secure.  I geniunely like him.  He genuinely likes me. It feels more stable, more solid.  Even a crappy (in my mind) fourth date has actually improved things between us.

All of these small shifts are progess.

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