When I ran into Assad at around 2 a.m. at London's new 'it' club last Thursday, a quarter of a bottle of Belvedere + four Champagne glasses into the evening and in line for a bathroom stall, I couldn't help but think out loud – why haven't we gotten to know each other more? I've seen him a handful of times over the past couple of years, most recently at my last birthday party, but for one reason or another (and as is the case when you're surrounded by too many people) I had simply overlooked him.
It certainly wasn't due to lack of appeal. He has a distinct attractiveness to him – pale blue eyes, large golden hair that he styles back like a lion's mane, a reserved demeanour and, of course, that characteristic nose that you either love or hate. Still it took the dressing-room type light bulbs in that bathroom in Room Service for his features to glow. I asked him for his number and he was kind to provide it.
Our date was Sunday night. I'd originally suggested a neutral 'coffee' somewhere around 'town' but he responded with a very specific request for me to cook on Sunday evening. Delighted to have finally come across someone with a solid pair, I happily obliged, but as we sat outside on my terrace having our first real conversation and as the sky dimmed and the candlelight shown brighter and brighter, I realised I felt something that I hadn't felt on a date in a long time – nervous!
He was well spoken, eloquent, very well mannered and gentle. He laughed effortlessly and his features were accentuated by the evening glow. I realise now that was when I'd fallen for him. So complete and utter was my infatuation that when he suggested we go upstairs and watch a movie in bed I didn't even attempt to try and slow things down, and when he said he was 23 years old I didn't shudder or freak out.
Tending to my usual neuroses, I cleaned up downstairs while he jumped into bed with the wine bottle and two glasses. We watched, played, and watched. He fell asleep and I struggled to do the same with my heart beating out of control. In the morning, I left him half asleep in bed and went to work, all the time taking full satisfaction in knowing he is still in my space, in my bed.
Experience has taught me that this kind of infatuation rarely ends well. Communication throughout the week has been patchy, and some time on Wednesday I realised to my horror that I may have met my match when it comes to the overplayed charm and getting what I want only to discard it later. I may only be 2 years older than he is, but I see a lot of myself in him, and that scares me, because I was a good player for a while.
That said, my spirituality edges me on and asks me to release the negativity and anxiety and enjoy the moment so that it may last forever. Making these value judgments and having these fears after one date is not only premature, its destructive. I may end up ruining what would have otherwise been something very positive and much needed given my recent bereavement.
