Second date, Second chances

After a successful first date, Dan wanted more. We were texting back and forth the few days between date one and two, and then had to decide what we were going to do for the second outing. I had gone to Dan's side of town for our first, and he had promised my side of town for the second. So when he said

Do you mind if we just do something low-key? Maybe casual dinner and a movie?

Of course! We don't have to paint the town red every time. He suggests we meet at his place and we can ride-share or he can drive us from there.

WHAT THE FUCK DAN

I don't say this.  Instead of un-politely reminding him that he promised to come to my side of town for the second date, I suggest 3 movie theaters that are all about half-way in between us. (I would have suggested a movie theater near my house, but there isn't really one) One of my best girlfriends lives downtown and these are the 3 theaters that she and I meet at regularly. Dan agrees, and suggests 4 movies as possibilities. I give my #1 and #2 choices, and we make plans to meet at a casual salad place nearby the theater.

I make it there right on time, and Dan is MOTHERF*CKING LATE. Only by about 10 minutes, but still! Goddammit. I don't like waiting.

literally me

We order salads and food through the line, and find a spot to eat. We have a lovely dinner. Chemistry is crankin. I confide to Dan about my friend who is gravely ill, he shares his movie script he is working on. We head to the movie theater, and low-and-behold Dan has f*cked up the movie times. Well, actually he f*cked up everything about the movie. My #1 movie isn't even playing at that theater. And the #2 choice he had the wrong times; we missed the start of the movie by about 30 minutes. I can tell he truly feels really bad about it, so I don't make a big deal out of it. We quickly find the movie I want to see at a nearby theater. We hop into his car and head over. While we are driving, he asks if I mind terribly if he stops in quickly to the grocery store. He was going to go before, but didn't make it.

WHAT THE FUCK DAN

I do not say this. We have the time, and so even though I don't really want to shop with him, I am a good sport about it. I follow him around the store as he ping-pongs around the aisles trying to find what he needs. He finally gets what he needs and we check out. Throughout all this, at least he is being cute and charming and funny.

We pile back into his car and head to the movie. We still have enough time to grab a drink at the bar to take into the show. The movie is fine, and he grabs my hand again as we leave. He is still extremely complimentary and affectionate. I like it, even though for some odd reason it feels like I shouldn't. Dan is also a fairly good listener and really seems to be putting me first in how he executes everything on the date. Well, except for the groceries.

He drives me back to my car and we sit in his car for a little bit, talking about life, love, the future, the past, and how short our time on this planet is. Its really lovely. We smooch a bit. Dan says if I wanted to come over, I would be welcome any time. That he just really likes me and wants to spend more time with me. I politely say I will be going home but I like him too.

All of the things that were sticking in my gut on the first date seem to have melted away. I am still a little overwhelmed by how quickly Dan seems to be falling for me. I am most definitely not falling as fast; Dan's affections feel a bit ... unfounded. But he seems so sincere. 

Things are going well enough that I agree to a third date....

Soul Sister

You know those people that you have to love because you are genetically connected to them? Most call them family. And then there are those people you actually choose to love because they are who you wish you were genetically connected to? Your chosen family.

When I was 16, I decided my family should host a foreign exchange student. Maybe I'd seen the movie Better Off Dead a few too many times, but I had this very romanticized idea of falling in love with some gorgeous guy with a terrible accent. Well, my parents somehow agreed to the zany idea, and the following year we were driving to the airport to pick up the woman who would soon become my sister and another member of our family.

Sure, maybe I was a teensy bit disappointed we didn't get Hans, some imaginary strapping hunk from Hunkland, but I quickly got over it when I met Chantal. She was sweet, fun, pretty, generous, and brought me chocolate from Belgium. *nomnomchocolate*

That year we loved and fought as true sisters. We had each other's backs. We giggled in the wee hours of the night. We got on each other's nerves. We had adventures. At the end of the year, I didn't want her to leave! We hugged and cried and made promises to write.

Because I am ancient this was before email was prevalent (email was new and seemed a cold way to communicate and I could go days without receiving any... so I rarely checked it), and so we actually hand-wrote letters, and called when our college-student budgets allowed. I visited when I studied abroad in the Netherlands. We sent little gifts, and when she fell in love and got married, I flew out for the wedding.

A few years later I flew out again and was able to meet her two young children, who were absolutely adorable and sweet, and got to see her be an amazing mother. Her light showed even brighter through her kids.

Then we both got busy. She had kids, I was working in Los Angeles trying to break into the entertainment industry.  We emailed, we Facebooked, but despite the additional modes of communication, we talked even less. But we always knew the other's love was there. When we did chat, it was as if no time had passed. Like sisters, with a common bond, we could still know each other with just a tone in the other's voice.

A couple of years ago, Chantal got sick. Colon cancer. She fought and took risks and lived her life to the fullest even with pain and disease. She took experimental treatments. Things looked good for a time, until they didn't. A few months ago, she was told there was no more treatment to be done. Still, she remained positive, sure that some new treatment would become available, some new trial, some new possibility.

About a month ago, she went into the hospital because of some pains. She still was so positive, planning to get the pain under control. In my heart I knew then if she didn't come out quickly, she never would. A couple of days ago, she passed from this world. She was with her cousin, and he said that although she could not speak, she nodded that she was not afraid to go.

I am comforted by the fact that she is no longer in pain, that she was not afraid at the end, and that she was surrounded by love. But I am still brokenhearted that my sister is not there for me at the other end of the phone, or a facebook message or email, or a "like" on a picture. My heart breaks for her two teenage children, that they should have to live the majority of their lives without her. My heart crumbles for her mother, who should never have to feel the pain of losing a husband and her only child. My heart hurts for all who loved her, including me.

I can't help but feel lucky to have known her, to have been loved by her. Everyone who knew her felt the same way. Perhaps those whose lights shine the brightest also burn out quickest. Or perhaps life just isn't fair and some only get to be here a short while. Either way, cancer fucking sucks and it can go fuck itself.

Give those you love a little extra tonight. Reach out to that person you've been meaning to catch up with. Open your heart.

I miss you, Cha... my sis.