This is a continuation of a previous post. Please read Disaster Date #6: My Very First Date; The Dating Disasters Commence first.
Several weeks later I came home from school and found Kyle's hot little red car parked in my driveway. He had stopped by to ask me to be his date to the Homecoming dance. I accepted his invitation, shocked that I had not completly sabotaged myself on our first date as I had thought. The plan was to go out to dinner before the dance with a group of my friends and their dates. We thought it would be hilarious to get all gussied up and go to eat at Wendy's in our gowns and suits. However, the evening of Homecoming threw a curveball when several of my friends decided at the last minute that they'd rather eat somewhere nicer than Wendy's. I felt badly about changing plans on Kyle at the last minute, but alas, we had been outvoted.
My first inclination that things might not be going well came when Kyle's dad showed up at the restaurant to bring him more money. Since we had intended to eat at Wendy's, he hadn't bothered to put more than $20 in his wallet, and why should he have? It really wasn't a big deal, but I could sense his embarrassment and wished we could both crawl under the table to hide. The rest of the meal, however, went on without a hitch and I'm fairly certain we all had a good time. I don't remember specifics from the dance itself, but I know it was so nice to have someone to join me for every dance and a gentleman's arm to hold onto for the night.
Kyle invited me over after the dance to watch movies with him and another couple, but again, my anxiety won over and I declined in favor of a sleepover with a group of my girlfriends. That served as Kyle's cue to give up, and I certainly don't blame him. I had provided him with every signal that I was absolutely not interested and though I was interested, I was scared to death. I wanted the excitement of first love, but having experienced nothing remotely close to it in the past, the idea of it was completely overwhelming. For most people, perhaps it is an innate sense that tells them what to do and say in the presence of someone they are intersted in, but I did not have that instinct. I fear I might still lack it. And so, while I believe Kyle would have been a wonderful, fun, sweet, attentive high school boyfriend, I missed my chance. I have only myself to blame.
That was years ago and of course I am over it, but that doesn't mean I don't still have regrets. I later learned that on the night of Homecoming, the trunk of his hot little red car held a fancy tablecloth, silverware and candlesticks. Kyle intended to set a romantic table for me at Wendy's! That is one of he sweetest things I have ever heard, let alone experienced. I still cringe when I think about his disappointment when his plans were thwarted and he was unable to follow through with his romantic scheme. I also very much regret that I was not able to experience that sweet gesture.
As this site only proves, my romantic encounters have very much gone downhill throughout the past ten years. Perhaps I cursed myself. I didn't appreciate the charming man I had at 16; am I now doomed to experience the worst men in the universe for the rest of my life? Probably not. But I haven't yet been convinced otherwise.