49.3 - .4 - Farewell

After our swoon-worthy second date, Forty-nine and I continued our routine of constant texting.  The next morning he asked me when I was free for the second part of the chase-scene.  I told him when I was available and added, "I feel bad taking up your time.  Don't get me wrong, I absolutely love spending the time with you, but I'm sure all of your friends want to have all the quality time with you that they can get before you leave." He generously replied, "Don't feel bad. I'm making my own decisions, plus they'll all get to see me at my goodbye party.  I like spending time with you as well.  Just bad timing that we meet as I'm leaving the city.  Plus I really want to finish the tour of the chase before I move, but I think I need to add more lookout points."  I responded by saying, "Okay, I'm fine with your friends being mad at me then.  Seriously, though, why did you have to give me your number, ya jerk."  "A good question.  And one I don't have the answer for, but I'd like to see you more before I go."  We made plans for Thursday, but then Wednesday came along and we decided we should see each other then, too.

Forty-nine was busy getting everything ready for his move, so we incorporated moving tasks into our third and fourth dates.  Wednesday he picked me up and we got ice cream before making a trip to Oakland so he could pick up his car.  Definitely not the most romantic date, but it was nice spending time with him and getting a good night kiss, of course.  We were going to finish the chase scene Thursday evening after he finished up packing; he picked me up and we ordered take-out and organized his life in piles and boxes.  In the midst of moving things around, he would walk over and say something silly such as, "You know what's better than packing?  Kissing." When we took a break to eat he asked me about my relationship history and he told me about his, and then he asked the serious question, "What happens after this weekend?"  By now you all know that I don't make it to relationship status, so when he and I first started talking I was thinking, This is perfect.  This guy is leaving in two weeks.  We'll go on a date, maybe it will be a fun story, the end.  Then he turned out to be a sweetheart to me, and I just ignored the fact that he was leaving and didn't think about the what-if questions.  When he asked me that, I immediately answered with a nervous chuckle and without thinking (which usually isn't a good thing), "I don't know.  I think Berkeley is a long-distance relationship."  He responded that he kind of thought the same, and being an unemotional idiot I didn't press it any further because, well, I'm an unemotional idiot.  By the time the packing was  all finished it was later than we expected and he asked if I still wanted to do the drive. I told him, "That's totally up to you since that is your goal.  I'm happy to go, but I'm perfectly content just staying here a while longer and talking." He agreed, but I told him he'd have to kiss me at least once.  We kissed and talked for the next couple of hours and at one point I told him, "Now I know what's going to happen after this weekend.  You're going to leave, and I'm actually going to be sad because you've been so great, and I've put you on a pedestal." He said, "Well, I do like being on a pedestal, so it's a good thing I'm leaving before you find out I'm an asshole."

Luckily before I found out about his goodbye party, I had already made dinner plans for that same night.  I say luckily because I can be comfortable and make friends in pretty much any situation, but I do think it would have been a bit odd to go to his party and tell people "Oh me? I know him because we've gone on four dates in two weeks."  Since I didn't make it there he came over this morning after he loaded up his car.  We had breakfast, I gave him a silly going-away gift, he said thanks for everything, we kissed, I told him I was going to listen to all of Whitney Houston's saddest songs for the rest of the day, we laughed, and then we said goodbye.

I'm a little sad, but I'll bounce back.  Four dates in two weeks, though, that's my longest and most successful "relationship" in three years.  Oh yeah, I'm moving up in the world.