So, this is Torrington…
As he shared with me later, Ed’s “auspicious” introduction to my hometown was watching a fist fight in the Burger King parking lot while he waited for me to come by. I think that left him wondering just a bit what he was getting himself into. But again, he stayed.
I had invited him to come to Torrington for our second date, and rather than struggle with convoluted directions to a restaurant or my condo, I told him I’d meet him at that parking lot. It was right where the road from West Hartford came into town, and thus, the easiest way to manage things in the “pre-GPS” era.
Our first date at that “family-style restaurant” had actually gone…wonderfully. Beyond my wildest dreams. At least I thought so. We spent several hours at the restaurant, talking the whole time. Everything from our childhoods and jobs, to hobbies and life dreams. I shared my longings to be a writer and all my attempts to get that going. He spoke with excitement about all the exciting new computer technology he was getting exposed to, and all the unusual installations he visited to solve software issues. And this time, I was fascinated. Here was a computer person who could not only express what he loved about the digital world, but also explain intricate topics like he was telling a story.
It was just…easy, comfortable, safe. I couldn’t give you scientific evidence why. But my gut said so in spades. I’d never felt so in sync with another human before, like I did with him. So it was a no-brainer for me to invite him over when he asked about getting together again sometime. And we made that sometime, soon.
“So tell me about you”
The question was filled with genuine, kind curiosity.
“I want to know who you are.”
I rolled over, climbed out of bed, and said, “You don’t want to know who I am. Let’s go out for breakfast!” Heading out into the sunny day seemed like the best way to dodge deep questions.
Emotions swirled through me. I had never allowed any man to stay overnight at my condo before. If I invited anyone over, they had to leave afterward. Nobody got to stay over. And it’s not that I did that very much, anyway. And even then, it was only the gentle, sensitive types. Macho types could take a hike. I’d join a convent first before I’d give one of them the time of day. But no matter what, no one got to stay overnight.
However, this man? I never even hesitated to consider the question. He was such peaceful company, a sensitive person — I could feel that on a deep gut level — and just a fun person to spend time with and talk to. And he was an amazing lover. So I was both drawn to him and wary. That latter part was because I had the uncomfortable sense that this was a man I would not be able to easily walk away from. Not like the others. I intuitively knew that a gentle heart like his shouldn’t be trifled with.
The other men I had dated, I always kept up a wall between us. No matter how nice they were, I wasn’t going to get deeply involved. I wanted to remain in control and comfortable enough to walk away if they got too serious. I didn’t want to hurt anyone, but I wasn’t going to give up the freedom and relative stability I’d finally achieved for the upheaval of adding someone to my carefully arranged life. As far as I was concerned, I was content to keep things light, free, and fun. I would be happy with a long-term setup like that. A way to have a deeper connection and enjoy their company, without having to disturb my present peace and independence. Or discuss my past.
And that had worked just fine…until now. There was just something about him. The others were nice men. But he was nice on such a deeper level. How was I going to keep this under control?
All the self-caring touches
He told me later how, when he was in the bathroom, he noticed all the small, self-caring touches I had in there. The perfumes, the powders, even the bar of Maja soap – an exotic soap from Puerto Rico that was a gift from my uncle, who was a missionary there. I loved how it smelled, and I kept it in there just to inhale its fragrance now and then. I still do. I don’t use it. I just revel in its fragrance. And remember my uncle, too.
Also, Ed loved the flannel sheets on the bed. That was something new for him and a real treat. They were so warm, snuggly, and inviting. To this day, it’s strictly flannel sheets. We tried silk ones one time because they were supposed to be what everyone loved. Couldn’t stand them. Too cold…physically and emotionally. And all you did was slide around on them. Nope. Flannel only.
Years later, he told me how all those small sensory things impressed him. Told him here was a person who knew what she liked, and liked herself enough to treat herself to them.
But maybe if there was one true predictor of our supreme compatibility, it was that we both loved and had a lot of books. And he immediately noticed that we both had the same “log home and underground home” books. It was like two nerds recognizing a kindred spirit, even as the deeper significance was lost on us at the time.
So, while emotionally wary, I couldn’t resist seeing this “very different computer person” again…and again…
Soul Mosaic 
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