So, Ian.
Ian, Ian, Ian.
Ian, who I met in New York last January through mutual friends. Ian, who was a Caltech physics major like me, now working for hedge funds. Ian, who most recently moved to my sweet home Chicago. Ian, who was set up with me on a blind date back in January, and who really likes me and thinks I’m brilliant and says ….
That I am “like his sister…”
Huh?
So, I arrive in Chicago after driving for 20 some hours in 2 days. We meet for drinks. And it’s just great. He makes me feel like a queen. We catch up on each other’s lives during covid. I can’t even remember what we talked about, but it lasted 2 drinks and 2 hours, and was just pure fun.
He convinces me that I should chase after the Argentinian I’ve been crushing on (see next post).
He is thrilled that after this strange covid year, I’ve come to see my value much more clearly and confidently, and to dream bigger dreams.
He invites me to his apartment after drinks to take a look at the view, and to brag about his framed Tesla rocket schematic 🙂
He tries nothing. He gives me the most amazing lift-your-feet-off-the-ground-for-20-seconds bear hug. He calls me his sister again. And he’s done, and I’m off.
I’ll see him again in a week, or in months. He’s someone who will always be in my corner, I can tell.
But seriously, “like a sister”??? I don’t know where that comes from, or how to fix it. Maybe he lives in a parallel dating world that is completely foreign to me. Maybe he needs to see me in a fancier dress and heels. Maybe maybe maybe…