The date

He came to the door and rang the bell. He brought me a chocolate (he knows I loved them) and said I looked beautiful... As much as I had loved my reflection in the full body mirror of my bedroom just a few minutes before, I couldn't bring myself to believe him. That's just me: zero confidence.
He took me to a nice restaurant (we both liked the food) and we were going to go to the movies... but we missed it. We started talking –about everything– and we lost track of time. He told me about his family, his house, his friends. We talked about school, TV, politics... And by the time we thought we should get going, more than 2 hours had passed and we were already late, so instead we went for a walk.
It was a nice night. A little bit cold maybe, but we didn't mind. Well, I didn't, but he seemed to, so in the middle of the block he took of his jacket and put in on my shoulders... Instead of thinking how romantic that gesture was, my inner fears came out like a storm and all I could think was: "this is too perfect to be real. Now is when he tells me the truth". So I started asking him about his last relationship, his feelings about commitment, his thoughts about love and life... I was trying to scare him away just because I was scared. And he answered every question with nothing but patience, kindness and a sort of knowledge about me that was completely disturbing, but also -somehow- appealing. In the end, I had to admit he had passed all my barriers and left me with nothing to object about: he hadn't had relationship in a while, but just because he hadn’t meet anyone that interested him; he was open to the possibility of a long term relationship; he believed in love and compromise, but he didn't like the idea of losing his normal life activities for that... and that's exactly how I feel. And to finish it, he said he wouldn't have asked me out if he didn't like me and wanted to get to know me better. Then he took my hand and started walking again. That just made my night.
He brought me to my door and asked if I had had a good time, because for him it had been a great date. I was flying. I said "me too" and he touched my cheek lightly. Then he came closer and kissed me like I don't remember ever being kissed before. Slowly, tenderly, like if he was kissing a flower and didn't want it to lose its petals... Right then I really wished he wouldn't have to go, that my parents wouldn't be at home so I could take him in and never let him go. That kiss actually brought a few tears to my eyes, but I manage to blink them back before I could embarrass myself.
Then he was gone. And I spent half the night lurking in fantasies and the other half stopping myself before I fell for something that might not be really there. I had to stay calm and think rationally, but not let my fears blind me, because that was the only way to stay real.
What happened the next day, I'll tell you some other time.