Everything about her is wonderful. Head-to-toe, voice, eyes, hands, shoes. Smile and skin and sex and now it’s day three, which is awfully close to day four, which by my calculations means it’s entirely possible that the two of you are soon going to be talking about whether or not you wish to enter more formally into a relationship. And you’re going to do this because you aren’t one of those women, and certainly not one of those lesbians who bump through life acting on what you assume to be true. Even though you’re darned-near prescient and one smart cookie, you’ve learned that assumptions can be dangerous when not checked, so you want to check their veracity, aiming for mutual understanding and gentle clarity.
Still, you’re a little apprehensive: it’s fine to have some fun, not get serious, not get emotionally involved but there you are, with her, in the middle of day three which is just before day four, you know the fourth date. You now cannot imagine and don’t really want to imagine being away from her. You now don’t want to fall asleep without her. You want to be with her. Not in that Cling-on Velcro can’t-live-without-you, need-you-to-breathe kind of psycho-babe way. The other being with her way, the good and healthy I enjoy this way, the wow, it’s easy and fun and warm and open to be with you kind of way that has made you want to cross that dotted line from day three to day four to be with her.
So what to do?
Be patient. You need a sign. A signal. You need to facilitate an opportunity, a situation that will help you gauge whether your sense of her is accurate, or if it’s just hormones and sleep deprivation. So put on your patience panties and wait for the first rainy day. Ask to meet her at your favourite cafe, or favourite park bench, or favourite little park that’s hidden on a street near the market.
Take a big umbrella, preferably one you can stick in the ground, one you don’t have to hold and one that will cover the two of you when it’s opened. Then, take out your favourite hardcover book of poetry. Open it. Look Serious. If you can do it, slightly raise your left eyebrow, as if something you have read surprises you just a titch.
Look at her. Then slowly, look back at the book. Then back at her.
Furrow your brows slightly as you look again at the book. Her. The book. Then place the book face down on your knees, look her in the eyes and say,
“Screw poetry, it’s you I want,
your taste, rain
on you, mouth on your skin.”
From ‘Late Night’, by Margaret Atwood
The time/space continuum between when you tell her this and her response to you will tell you what you truly want with her and whether it’s time for a talk or a walk. Whatever you were hoping for will bubble up in that time and in that space. You will know and you will have your decision. If this is not something you can do with her, that tells you something too.
NB 1: Margaret Atwood is one of Canada’s most outstanding writers, albeit not a lesbian one.
NB 2: If you live where there isn’t any rain, MacGyver it. Go to a car wash and stay inside the car. Turn on the sprinkler hose. Go to the water park. Use a watering can. Stand under the shower. Go to a pool.