The Boy

He's a Christian, a father of two, a teacher, a dog lover, a Red Sox fan, fantasy football player, coach, reluctant ex-husband, and softie. He's 5'11, with brown eyes that you could lose yourself in and a mischievious grin that gives his teasing, laid-back nature away. His four year old daughter is wrapped around his little finger and his six year old son is the apple of his eye. His career aspirations are only as high as his entire family is willing to reach and his involvement at church is honest and selfless.

He wore a tie on our first date. He's cooked dinner twice and bought dinner more times than I can count. My table has been adorned with roses more than once and my car has been mysteriously filled with gas. He let me change his radio dial to a country station (and even made it a preset). He sat with me on the beach and watched the sun set and enjoyed nothing more than the simplicity of holding my hand.

His children are beautiful, sweet and welcoming. They have allowed me to join them for dinner, for bedtime stories and for dance recitals. We have gone for walks, gone swimming and made s'mores.

I will admit, I didn't want to like him. The ink not yet dry on his divorce papers, I was cautious about a relationship with someone still in the midst of the mess. But he talked with me, openly, honestly. He did not try to coerce me, but allowed me to feel comfortable in trying.

I was scared. I'm not sure after all this time that I know how to date, how to relate, how to be openminded. But he makes it easy. There's no pressure, no assumptions, no pre-determined pace.

I don't know where this is headed. I don't know if or how long this will last. And for once, that feels okay.

For as new as all of this is, I have not felt quite so much like myself in a very long time.