I could have walked all night

TV is on in the other room with the volume just low enough that I can’t hear distinct words, just garbled noise.

I have a sweet little black dog sleeping on the floor in front of me, her chin on my foot. She’s my precious, even when she snorts between her tiny snores. Maybe especially then.

It’s been a quiet evening. I made salad – grilled garlic chicken shredded on top of spinach leaves, sprinkles of low fat cheddar cheese, cranberries, walnuts and a light raspberry viniagrette dressing. Took a long walk with the little dog and only turned around because she (finally!!) started to get worn out. I could have walked all night.

I can’t seem to shake this funk. It has little to nothing to do with the St. Paul guy postponing … I’m in such a shitty mood that it wouldn’t have been a great first impression no matter what. If I had “faked it till I made it” I would have felt phony, and if I had let him see my bitchy side it would have been a short night. He has to find out when he has his son again and then we’ll reschedule around that.

It’s odd, but I’m not worried. I don’t think he’s trying to ditch me or avoid meeting, it’s life just happening. I do admit to reading back through some of our text messages earlier this evening, sometimes blushing, sometimes outright giggling but most of the time simply nodding my head and thinking “Oh girl, he likes you.”

I thought about it when Gracie and I were out walking. I haven’t let myself get attached to a guy since StupidChris this spring, which means it’s been six months, nearly to the day. It’s time I let my gaurd down and let a good man beyond the fence. Not necessarily all the way into the house quite yet, but at least sit on the porch with him for a spell.

Maybe offer some lemonade, maybe let him hold my hand.

Maybe I should have walked all night.