Day One

Our relationship was a whirlwind.  I was 29 and he was 42.  We met and never parted.  That's not fair of me to only put it in three sentences so I'll elaborate.

(But I'm going to leave details that mean nothing out)  It was a blind date.  I know, I wanted to run away too.  That conjures up nightmares doesn't it?  It wasn't your typical blind date.  There would be three couples total going for a motorcycle ride on a beautiful day.  I had made my position very clear that I was in no way interested in anything more than being company for him.  He was the same.  Neither of us wanted a relationship as both had been hurt in the past.  My main objective was to get on the back of that motorbike and have a great day, come home and be done.  His sister arranged for us to meet for coffee before the impending day.  I couldn't tell you what he looked like because I never raised my eyes to look at him.  He offered to buy my coffee but I, being a strong female, refused because "I can buy my own".  Never owe anyone was my motto.  The straw that broke the camel's back was the night he called to let me know what I should wear on the Saturday.