After five or so dates, I thought I'd finally found someone I genuinely liked. He was intelligent, clever, and loved architecture and art βwhich I found heavily attractive. He came at things with a confident humbleness that I enjoyed being around. He was the first guy I'd liked since moving to Barcelona. Each time we met, I felt butterflies in my stomach and flustered whenever his arm brushed against mine. I was taking things slow since I had some trauma I was still working through, and I felt like he could sense that and was perfectly fine with the pace.
On our last date, I brought up the idea of traveling together. I enjoy traveling, especially since Europe is my new backyard. He agreed, and I suggested we explore a vineyard near Valladolid. We planned to take the train there, but the tickets were too expensive.
We agreed that flying would hurt the environment a tidbit that made me like him even more and settled on renting a car. The drive was six hours one way.
At what felt like the crack of dawn, I woke up and quickly got ready for our journey. Walking out of my apartment , I couldn't help smile as I saw him waiting for me on the corner of the street. He was waiting outside and helped me with my luggage. I wanted to kiss him then and there, but I figured it was too early to make a move.
Once on the road, we made one quick coffee break at a road stop about an hour from Barcelona. During coffee, I noticed him acting a little different, but I just chalked it up to the long road trip and the time. Either way, we spoke the entire trip, and it felt like I was getting to know him better.
