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Just when you think you’re ready for love, you’re not. That’s what I told myself after receiving another romantic musing from Chef.
Chef is the hopeless romantic I met on Match.com while in Miami on vacation a few weeks ago. We emailed, talked, texted and face timed every day since the first connection. It felt as if we hit it off from the start.
Christian? Check. Tall, dark, handsome? Check. Aspiring chef who had plans to travel the world and settle down in our mutual hometown of Miami? Check.
One night he sent me a text that made my face melt into my pillow.
“If you don’t mind, I’ll fall in love with your eyes and take it from there.”
If I don’t mind? No. Not at all, Chef. I don’t mind at all. As a matter of fact, I don’t mind if you shower me with these sweet sayings for the rest of my life.
“I’m going to fill you up with love and what ever overflows will be mine.”
What girl doesn’t want to hear that?
Well, some don’t. Some women (my sister Mika included) consider uber romantic men to be a turn-off. Too much soft-serve gives them a tummy ache.
I get it.
After Henry Wadsworth Longfellow’s, “It is difficult to know at what moment love begins; it is less difficult to know that it has begun,” I became a bit skeptical, too.
But I thought, why? Why is it that we find it so hard to embrace love? Or in this case, loving words.
Here is a man who is smitten and here I am pushing back.
I just kept telling myself: Be open Krystal. Be open. Jump.
So I did. I jumped. I embraced the 7am scriptures, at times, sending sweet sentiments back. I engaged in the daydreaming about what it would be like when we finally met in person.
Would we have chemistry? Would we hug one another or would I stumble in my shoes and fall flat on my face in clumsy Krystal style? And where would we meet? East coast? West coast? Where would “forever” begin?
We decided on L.A. Great weather, neutral ground, good food and lots to do. After tossing around dates and searching for flights, Chef asked where I’d be staying.
“With a friend,” I said, assuming he’d book a hotel room.
Note: Never. Assume. While. Love. Jumping.
The next day I received the epic text of life. The one that left me in a state I rarely visit, speechless:
Breathe Krystal, Breathe. Remember what the bible says Krystal “speak the truth in love.”
I waited 7 hours…
Chef taught me a lot. He taught me what it felt like to relate to a man on a mutually spiritual level. He spoke sincere words I believe every woman should hear when the moment is right. He caused me to sift through my list of deal breakers.
Could I handle a long distance relationship? Could I date a man with an STD? (full disclosure: Chef suggested I blog about the fact that he has an STD). Do I want to be the breadwinner in the relationship?
At the end of the day, it wasn’t so much the hotel thing (as off-putting as that may have been) that killed it for me.
It came down to experience.
I’m new to this. I’ve never pursued love like this before. I’m not naïve, but I need a man who knows how it’s supposed to go. I need a man experienced enough to know it’s not okay to ask a lady to pay.
Herpes, I can handle. Cheap date? Check, please!