These are parts 4 and 5 of my first experience with an older man.
I am reconstructing my story from my diary, emails, texts and memory. Granted, I may be romanticizing things, but this is how I remember it. The conversational parts are obviously paraphrased.

-Red

The next few days were uneventful, and our conversations became rather... "dry," so to speak. Gabriel would send me a daily text wishing me a good day and telling me how he was really looking forward to our date, but nothing much deeper than that.
However, something that stood out to me was how he always called me "Ms. REDiance." It sounded very formal and respectful. I liked it, but I kept trying to figure out the reason behind it. I didn’t want to ask directly because I knew I’d be nervous when we met, so I figured I should have some conversation pieces in store for when we met in person... you know, just in case.

After four days of him being out of town, he actually called me. When I say my heart jumped out of my chest, I mean it almost literally did—I nearly had a panic attack. It got so bad that I didn’t pick up the phone.
I was used to a pre-call arrangement with people (a text asking if they could call and such), which generally gave me time to prepare myself, but apparently, Gabriel didn’t get that memo!

Anyway, after my little heart attack, another thing out of the ordinary happened: he left a voicemail. WTF???

The voicemail, in a very calm and casual tone, said:

"Hello Ms. REDiance, this is Gabriel. I'm calling to let you know that I am back in town and would love to finalize our plans to go on our date or see if you still wanted to go.
Please give me a call back when you are free. Have a great day."

I must've listened to that voicemail ten times before I was able to put down my phone and think about what I should do next. By this point, I already knew that he was very direct and not shy about making plans, so I wanted to have a way out just in case he asked to meet tonight or something like that... I mean, I wanted to, but I was soooo nervous!

So many things went through my head like:

What if he wanted to have sex immediately? Was I ready for that?
What if he didn't like me? I mean, who wouldn't, but you never know!

I remember grabbing my face thinking, "I don't know... I don't know... I don't know!!" and "RED, you're such a punk, no wonder EX-BFF left and never came back." Yeah, I used to blame myself for a lot of things when I was younger. Anyway...

Finally, after having a bit of a breakdown, I decided that I needed to go out with him and that it would be good for me. This, of course, did not come to me naturally; this is something I understood after posting my dilemma on Yahoo Answers.

Now it was time to call him back... well, it was time to look at the phone for 45 minutes and then call him back... I was sweating and stressed beyond belief (kept thinking of the Eminem song where he says "palms are sweaty, knees weak, arms are heavy"), but I kept reminding myself that this was something I wanted, and it was just a phone call... so I hit "send" on my phone and heard the phone ring, longest few seconds of my life.
There was something inside me saying, "Please don't pick up, please don't pick up"... but no luck, he picked up. My heart sank to my belly, and I did everything I could not to hang up the phone. All I heard was, "This is Gabriel, how can I make your day a little better today?"... yeah, I know... WTF???

I stammered an almost-casual, "He-hello, this is RED," and he responded, "Well, hello Ms. REDiance, how are you today?" Again, I opted to be as transparent as I could be and said, "Very nervous." He, very calmly, casually, and reassuringly, said, "Oh, stop, it is not that serious. You will be OK, I promise," to which I just gave a little bit of an audible exhale, and he said, "So tell me, did you decide if you want to go to dinner with me?"... I just said, "I do," releasing a sigh of relief. I won't bore you with any more mundane details about the call because, at this point, they are irrelevant, and I've been paraphrasing this entire conversation.

So, given my indecisiveness during the conversation, he decided that it would be best if we met during the day for a cup of coffee. That way, I would not feel so pressured, and it could be more casual, which was another moment of relief for me.
He really did try to make me as comfortable as possible. He also decided that we should meet the following day at 2 at the coffee shop where we initially met. He said, "We can make that 'our spot,'" which got a little chuckle out of me and put me a bit more at ease.

After the conversation, my anxiety and uncertainty had turned into butterflies in my stomach, and I was looking forward to the next day.

I was still nervous and had a lot of questions, but if I had any doubts about at least meeting him, they were now gone, and I wanted to see it through to the next step.

It was time to overthink the following day...

I couldn’t sleep that night. I was nervous, anxious, and obsessing over everything that could go wrong, but eventually, I managed to fall asleep.
The next morning, I woke up VERY late for class. Normally, this would have stressed me out, but today, the anticipation and anxiety overshadowed everything else. Honestly, I considered canceling. I even caught myself coming up with excuses, but I fought through it.

Eventually, I made it home and took another shower. I’d been sweating all day from nervousness, and the last thing I wanted was for him to remember me as "the smelly redhead from the coffee shop".

As I made my way to the coffee shop, I was sweating again, but I was determined to see this through. I arrived a few minutes early, thinking that if I got there before him, I could pick our table and calm my nerves. But as I turned the corner, I saw him already there. Another pit in my stomach... He was just standing outside, looking at everything and nothing. The next few steps felt like I was walking in slow motion. I was fixated on him, noticing what he was wearing, and imagining his delightful scent.

My moment of serenity was interrupted when he saw me and smiled, acknowledging me with that gaze I remembered so well. When I reached him, there was an awkward moment where I didn’t know how to greet him. My mind raced: "Should I shake his hand? Hug him? What's the etiquette?" We should have discussed this on the phone!

He must have noticed my hesitation because he immediately hugged me—not a romantic embrace, but not a distant acquaintance social hug either. Whatever it was, holy shit! I felt an immediate connection. The hug probably lasted two seconds, but I didn’t want it to end. He smelled even better than I imagined.

As the hug ended, he grabbed both my hands in his, brought them to his face, and kissed them. Holy shit! What is this? What was I supposed to do? His eyes were glued to mine, and I was taken aback, lost in the moment. Without breaking eye contact, he said, "Well, hello Ms. REDiance. I am so pleased to see you again."

I must have looked like a deer in headlights, high on whatever this was.

I managed to say, "You too," but immediately realized it made no sense—none! Embarrassed, I noticed him chuckle softly before he said, "Ms. REDiance, why don't we sit outside? It's such a beautiful day." I nodded awkwardly, but he seemed to understand. He chose a table outside and led the way, with me following.

He asked what I wanted to drink, and I said, "Just a regular coffee is fine." He looked at me and suggested, "Perhaps we should do some tea; it might help you relax a little. Would you like that?" All I could say was, "Yes, please." As he walked inside to get our drinks, I sat there, becoming one with my nervousness and fighting the urge to run away.

Despite the intrusive thoughts and nerves, I realized I was mesmerized by the situation. I was on a date with a man more than twice my age, whom I had met at a coffee shop. I was doing it!

Of course, paranoid thoughts crept in: "Oh shit! Better keep an eye on him to make sure he doesn’t put anything in my tea"... thanks for that baggage, Mom!

Watching him interact with the girl at the counter, sharing smiles and conversation, a little voice inside me whispered, "He is mine, bitch!"... THAT was new.
I’d always had internal dialogue, but never like that or aimed at someone else. There was a strange feeling I couldn't quite identify, a fear of losing him to someone else. It wasn’t the time to dissect it—now was the time to focus on him and try to string together sentences containing more than two words.

When he came back to the table, he handed me my cup and said, "I hope you enjoy your tea. The girl at the counter mentioned it’s her favorite and that it helps her relax." I thanked him, took a sip, and of course, burned my mouth. I sighed, and he smiled, watching me fumble through everything so far. He looked at me with an endearing expression and said, "Relax, it’s okay, I understand." His gaze made me feel so exposed, and I didn’t know why.

Lost in thought, I suddenly realized he was speaking. "So, Ms. REDiance, is that what you prefer to be called, or is there another name you prefer?" I replied, "REDiance is good," but saw this as a perfect opportunity to ask, "Why do you call me 'Ms. REDiance'? It sounds so formal. Why not just 'REDiance'?"

With a small smile, as if expecting this question, he said, "Well, Ms. REDiance, I believe in treating everyone with respect. If you were a man, I’d call you 'Mr. REDiance.' It also helps avoid ambiguities. No one can accuse me of being disrespectful if I address them respectfully. It helps me maintain a respectful relationship with people."
As I focused on what he was saying, I noticed he used his hands a lot when he spoke, and his facial expressions were very apparent. I had to admit, his gestures and expressions helped me understand him better.

I asked, "What if your relationship with the person is casual, friendly, or family? Do you still talk the same way?" This conversation was fascinating to me.
His response was simple and direct. "Of course, I have relationships that aren’t this formal. It depends on the relationship I have with the person. I have brothers, and we still talk very casually and playfully. I have friends with whom I don’t have to worry about how they interpret my words. It all depends on the relationship and the chemistry we’ve developed."

Then it occurred to me that I had the perfect question to transition into discussing the nature of our relationship. I was very proud of myself at that moment. I said, "So, if I decide that I want to have a relationship that is more than friends with you, will you still call me 'Ms. REDiance'?"
Wasn't that a great question? I thought it might stump him for a second or two... but nope! Not even a flinch. He immediately replied, "If WE opt to have a relationship, what I call you will be determined by our chemistry and dynamic, but I can guarantee it won’t be 'Ms. REDiance'".

While his response was clear, I still felt the urge to poke around a bit more, so I said, "So what would you call me?" He replied, "As I said, that would depend on our chemistry, but maybe something like 'Red-iculous'." We both laughed.

The more we talked, the more comfortable I felt, slowly allowing myself to open up and eagerly listening to him. I was enjoying myself; he was fascinating and more charming than I had ever experienced. My nervousness had completely subsided, and I found myself in a state of serenity with another person. I wanted more and more.

I completely forgot all the questions I had prepared and didn’t feel the need for backup topics; everything was just flowing. He made it easy to be myself, and it felt so good. His conversation was engaging and sincere, putting me in a trance. After a while, I realized it had been more than two hours, and my cup of tea was cold and barely touched.

During this time, I learned he was 44 years old and had been married in his 20s. After a few years, they realized it wasn’t working (holy shit! when I was born, he was having marital problems!!!).
No kids. He didn’t want to discuss his job, explaining that he didn’t want my perception of his profession to affect my opinion of him. He emphasized that his work was just a way to earn a living, nothing more. Whether he was a janitor or an executive, it shouldn’t influence how I saw him. What he did not realize is that I paid attention to his hands and they were definitely not janitor hands.

He asked if I had anywhere else to be and said he would understand if I did. I said, "No, I'm fine," but I thought it would be polite to ask him the same question. He said, "I’m exactly where I want to be; I set my whole afternoon for this." While a simple yes or no would have been enough, his response made me feel like I mattered, like I was the only person in the universe that mattered to him at that moment. I could feel my face turn red and normally that would be something I would shy away from, this time I allowed myself to just feel it.

He then said, "I’m going to get another cup of tea. Yours is cold. Would you like one?" The way he phrased his questions made me feel good, protected, almost spoiled. I wasn’t used to that, but I liked it. I got up, grabbed my purse, and said, "Don’t worry, I got it." I figured it was only fair, but honestly, I didn’t want to send him to "Ms. Smiley Pants" at the counter—don’t judge me!

He looked into my eyes and, with a warm yet firm tone, said, "It’s okay, I’ll go get it." For some reason, that moment, those words, sent warmth throughout my body, and all I could do was sit back down. Jesus! What was that?

While he was gone, I had time to think about what had happened so far and where it could lead. I liked everything up to this point, but I kept fantasizing about the future, even tonight!

One thing I noticed while he was gone was how obvious and almost unpleasant his absence felt. I couldn’t wait for him to return.

After what felt like an eternity, he finally came back, placed my tea in front of me, and smiled. "I'm back. Did you miss me?" he asked with a sarcastic grin. I wanted to yell, "YEEEEEESSSSSSSSS!" but instead, I just smiled back, unable to think of anything clever to say, settling for a flushed face and nervous laughter.

As he sat down, he sipped his tea, savoring it—or at least that’s what it seemed like. Then he said, "So, the other day, you asked what I’m looking to get out of this. I can answer that question. Would you like that?"

Deer in headlights, again... for fuck's sake!

to be continued...