After Patrick and I’s dramatic and comical introduction, life assumed as usual. He didn’t call me. He didn’t text me. We didn’t hang out, except occasionally with groups of friends. While he did take his time in pursuing me, what impressed me most about Patrick is that he was the first man I met in a long time who was intentional and deliberate. He knew what he was about.
After our first meeting, I did my best to push him out of my mind and go about my normal life. After all, I lived an hour away from KC. I had plenty going on in my day-to-day life that kept me busy. So why would this guy make anything different? Yet for some reason, I couldn’t seem to let go of the feeling I had while in line for confession. Nearly two months passed and I continued to try to forget this guy. Then one simple prayer before Mass changed everything.
The day was a routine Saturday. Clare and I drove to KC to hit up the Plaza Art Fair. This was a must, not because we are avid art-lovers, but rather avid people-watchers. We met up with Paul, Pat, and some other friends to hang out. I distinctly recall being quite frustrated during that afternoon for multiple reasons, the main one being that I couldn’t get over this crush. I was frustrated that I cared so much about this guy while he seemingly had no interest in me at all. I was frustrated with myself that I couldn’t just let it go and enjoy his friendship. I was mostly annoyed with God. I mean seriously…I was open to His will. His will didn’t seem to be Pat, so why was I getting so caught up in my emotions? All of these annoyances were weighing on me during that autumn afternoon, and I had just about had enough.
Clare and I decided part with the group to go to evening Mass. As I walked into Our Lady of Perpetual Help I was overcome with emotion…mostly the urgency to pray. We found a pew, I knelt down, pouring out all my emotions and frustrations to God…almost to the point of tears. Moments before Mass began I felt covered in a sense of peace and then one single phrase came to mind: “Relax. Rest in me. It will all make sense tonight.”
I don’t why this of all phrases came to mind. As usual, though I brushed it off as my own craziness and nothing to be paid much attention to. However, life was about to present me with different plans as it so often does.
After Mass, Clare and I once again met up with a group of friends to go country dancing…chuckle you might, but this is a legitimate and rather enjoyable pastime in the Midwest. Patrick insists that he was flirting with me all night, I beg to disagree. In fact, I was convinced that he wanted nothing to do with me.
Late into the evening as things we coming to a close, Pat and I were on the dance floor. He confidently led me through a two-step as I fumbled along pretending I was an experienced dancer. I can recall making note that his palms seemed quite sweaty for the occasion, still, I didn’t think much of it. As the song was reaching its last refrain, he asked me out. He didn’t ask to hang out sometime, or grab coffee. He didn’t clumsily ask to go to dinner. He confidently and without skipping a beat asked me if I wanted to go out on a date.
One of the earliest things I can recall appreciating about Patrick was his sense of pursuit. He made his intentions clear, and later that night as Clare and I were driving back to Atchison he called me at two in the morning to make plans for our date. All I could think was wow, this guy knew what he was about and what could be more charming than that?
Find out what happens next: Read Part 4, The First Date >