Day 109: Chapter 18

We drove home from the park, and I was blissfully smiling to myself the whole time. As we pulled up to my apartment Dave said "So, we're dating." "Yes." "Okay."

But, we were DATING, with all that the word implies. This time was for keeps, and there was no going back. One way or the other, we couldn't go back to being just friends ever again. I could hardly believe it, and sometimes expected that I would wake up and find myself laying in bed in Switzerland.

But it wasn't a dream--we really were dating. And this guy--this best friend that I'd known for three years? He was turning out to be even more amazing than I could've imagined. He would stop by my work to say good morning, and send me little notes via e-mail while I worked on school assignments. We met up, every Tuesday, to walk to devotional together. While I would be sitting there, with one foot crossed up on my knee to take notes, he would reach over with a Bic pen and draw a little heart on my ankle. There were a million little things that made dating Dave different from just being friends with Dave, and I savored every single second.

Dave was also, in every way, a gentleman. He walked me home, or called to make sure I'd gotten there safely. We kept curfew. We went on group dates--the most memorable being "sock puppet" night with his roommates. We were rarely alone. Compared to my only other serious relationship, this was pure, unmitigated bliss. The sound of his deep voice on the phone would pitch me backwards on to couch grinning. The sight of his 6'4" self walking through the bookstore to come see me at work made me forget how to form sentences. I have never been more utterly content.

I was also loving more time with his family--dinner up at his sister Carolynn's beautiful home, or hiking with Mike, Sarah, and Nicole. His parents were serving a mission out of the country, and his siblings were keeping a close eye on their brother, even from a distance.

One Thusday night in January, we went up to campus to see their production of "Crazy for You." Afterward, we walked down the hill toward my apartment and ended up on the brick walkway next to a stream. All by ourselves, we alternated between talking and dancing to a made up song that Dave sang. I could've stayed there under the stars all night.

The next morning, when I went to leave for work, I found a sign on my front door. It was his handwriting, with a paper moon, that said "Crazy for You."

This was significant.

When Dave had been dating the Russian girl, one of their big deal breakers had been this simple truth: he was not crazy for her. (His words.) He and I had talked about that, and I knew everything that the note implied.

The fact that he had acted on the impulse to make the note and come back to my apartment, after getting home very late anyway, made my heart beat fast. Was it possible? Could it really be? Was he beginning to be, at least a little, crazy for me?