I'll Never Tell
Not Edward. Not Woody. He's made a couple of films, but I'm going to keep his identity secret--
he doesn't know about you guys yet, and I don't want to raise his suspicions when he finds out that there was a huge, unexplained spike in rentals of his movies the day he started dating me.
Besides, it's not about that, anyway.
What it is about is:
The fact that I've had a silly grin on my face since about the moment he sat next to me on the subway, till....let's see...yep, it's still there.
Meeting him in front of The Plaza Hotel and strolling through Central Park, with the trees and the sun and the trees and the sun. The whole impossible scene of it. Minus cherubs.
At eleven this morning he called to say that he woke up with still so many questions about me that we hadn't answered last night. To which I responded, "It's a good thing the world didn't end then, so we still have some time to cover things."
So we shall see what we shall see.
On Wednesday, for date number two.
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