Miles separate us once more...

Johnie's final day in Kentucky was nice.  Dampness still hung in the air, but things didn't seem quite as dreary as they had the day before.  We went to the zoo.  It wasn't spectacular. 

But, Johnie began letting his guard down a little, opening up more.  All of the information I had been fishing for the last five months began to surface: He really was attracted to me.  He really did want to have a relationship with me.  He was able to articulate his feelings much better that last day than "we will never work."  I let him drive my car.  My friends said they were unsure of my feelings for Johnie until they saw him in the driver's seat of my precious "Sonny."  They knew I was serious if I was willing to let him drive.

The evening before he was to fly back to Kansas, we discussed how our relationship would change now that we were a couple.  I felt like his commitment to me (as weak as "I'm willing to try if you are" is) was enough to merit more phone calls on my part.  I wouldn't be a silly girl chasing a boy, I'd be checking in with my boyfriend.  That's a completely different scenario. 

At one point Johnie mentioned that he would have to let all of his other girlfriends know that we were exclusive now.  I didn't know he was joking.  I imagined he might have been sending similar e-mails to other girls during the past few months, dating local ladies, or chatting with others as he chatted with me. 

Often when we were on instant messanger together, his replies were short.  While he was always waiting for me online and usually the first to say hello, he seldom engaged me further in conversation. 

I learned there were no other girls, there were no other conversations.  He admitted to me a few months ago that in actuality he was staring at his computer screen the whole time just waiting for the next thing I would type. 

"Yeah, I will too," I answered.  We laughed. 

After a brief pause, Johnie said, "wait.  What?  Are you not joking?"  As I mentioned a few posts back, I had gone out on a few casual dates when opportunities arose.  There was only one guy that I even wanted to go out with again. 

I don't remember his name, even then I called him firefighter guy.  As you might guess, he was a firefighter.  Masculinity dripped off of him.  And he was one of the most chivalrous, respectful men I have ever dated.  I knew right away that I could never have anything serious with firefighter guy, but he had a really nice motorcycle I wanted to ride. 

Kentucky girl that I am, I love dresses and dolls, lace and flowers, but I also love camping, fishing, hiking, shooting guns, 4-wheeling, and motorcycles.  I had planned to take a motorcycle course at EKU my final semester, but was unable to fit it into my schedule with the internship I was offered.  And, I was smart enough to know that the internship would serve me much better than learning how to ride a motorcycle.  Anyway, when firefighter guy asked me out on a date, I accepted, hoping I'd get a chance to ride his bike.

He and I met at the Applebee's for our first date.  He was waiting on me when I got there and had "cleaned up."  It was lunchtime, so I was hoping for a ride later that day.  I quickly learned that wasn't going to happen.  He had wrecked the bike earlier that day and it was in the shop now.  It'd be awhile before it was fixed. 

As dinner progressed, I realized that while he felt much more like a friend than a date, I didn't mind waiting to go for a ride.

After our first date, he asked me out again.  He called me up one Saturday shortly after and asked if I wanted to see a movie: RV was playing.  He hadn't even offered to make even a tiny move our first date, and even though he didn't technically know which apartment I lived in, he knew which building I was in.  He lived just across the street, was big and strong, and worked for the fire department.  (RV wasn't the only choice in movies that weekend, either.  He could have invited me to something much more adult-focused.)  If he had any bad intentions, he could have fulfilled them whether we rode separately or not. 

I told him he could pick me up.  He did.  In his truck.  The motorcycle was still in the shop.

He sent me a message a few days before Johnie's arrival to let me know the bike was up and running again.  I hadn't expected things to progress to the point that Johnie and I were "exclusive" over the course of the weekend and was looking forward to finally getting to go for a ride.  As I mentioned in the previous post, Johnie was aware of all of this.

"Well, there's firefighter guy," I said, "but I don't have any feelings for him, and his bike is finally fixed.  Maybe I could tell him no more dates after we went for a ride?" 

Johnie didn't like that idea.  I reasoned that there were plenty of other motorcycles to ride and quickly conceded. 

The following morning I took Johnie back to the airport. 

And, since everyone loves a good first kiss story:  We did share our first kiss that trip.  It was a quick little "peck."  It was okay.  I wish I could share some grandiose account about my knees going weak, or there being fireworks, or it being the most amazing kiss of my life.  To do so would be a lie.  But, I will say, in Johnie's defense, he is responsible for the most amazing kiss of my life.  It just didn't happen then.