I remember a similar thing happening with Jay.
We'd been emailing and chatting back and forth for a while (I can't remember now if it was weeks or a month, but a while anyway) and he asked if he could call.
I was really really nervous about it and when he did call his voice was NOTHING like I'd thought and imagined it was and I was pretty close to horrified
I really thought I was done with the whole relationship, his voice was so much not right. I hated the whole thing. Hated the feeling of wrongness and akwardness and I had pretty much the same reaction with Jason this weekend. I hid. Didn't talk. Couldn't. He did. Broke the ice. (And of course it all worked out fine.)
And here I was with this person who DID NOT LOOK LIKE HE WAS SUPPOSED TO and all I could do was hide.
Except it's harder to hide in person so I was, like, actually, literally hiding.
It was that same feeling of wrongness, which, no, I didn't think about until the next day.
I apologized, tried to be a little less crazy, but every time I'd look at him I was reminded about how weird it felt and so I just kept under the blanket until I calmed down a little.
Calmed down and realized that this poor guy was sitting on my couch in his coat and scarf.
What kind of a host was I?
I told him to please relax. It hadn't occurred to me, I suppose that he was probably nervous too (maybe even just as nervous as I was?) and that my reaction was probably not what he'd dreamed of.
And maybe I wasn't what he'd thought I was either. But I didn't care about that at that point, about what he might be thinking about me, I just knew I wasn't comfortable and that he didn't look how I'd expected.
Which... you'd think I'd be used to it by now, as I've never met someone from online who looked exactly how I thought they would. I've met a couple who were cuter than I thought they were, but even then it's still a little odd, if a more pleasant kind of odd.
So, yeah. Jason and I met, and I hid under my blanket on the far side of the room while he sat on a couch on the other side of the room, probably wondering what he'd gotten himself into.
Or not. He seems pretty patient, or something.
I eventually calmed down enough to sit up, I think I offered him a glass of water, but then I'm too shy to go get it because I just want to stay under my blanket because I know he works with models as a photographer and if I stand up, he'll see my shape and gah... but he says something about how he caught a glance when I was running up the stairs (gah!) and why was I so nervous about meeting him, I've got a great body (GAH!) (THIS GUY MUST BE A GIANT LIAR LIAR PANTS ON FIRE....or maybe not?
And because we've chatted for a couple of weeks, there is a level of comfort there. And it's probably good that we have chatted for a couple of weeks because had this been a "meet and greet" first date, I would have never spoken to him again. (Except as I write that... maybe that would have been easier in the long run?) But that's not how the Universe presented us to each other and I just keep trying to trust that maybe there's a reason we met when we did and have talked so much and maybe I should just try to see what happens... or something.
At some point Thursday he asked me what my plans were on Saturday morning and I felt a little uncomfortable with this line of questioning because I assumed he was expecting to stay over and get into my pants, but when I asked him about it he said that he'd just wanted to make sure I didn't have anything early in the morning in case we were up all night talking... as we'd been doing on the phone the last few nights (making for some very sleepy work day mornings for me.) He told me he really didn't want to have sex, that his best relationships were ones where he waited and so although it did seem like we had some chemistry, he was not expecting to sleep over, or if he did end up staying over, he had no expectations that it would be anywhere near my bed.
But after we'd chatted for a bit.. again, I have no idea what about, and I'd progressed to the couch nearer him, and then I think I probably invited him to come sit on the same couch as me, and I relaxed more and just felt like we were having another hours-long phone conversation, I started to get tired and just wanted to lie down.
I told him I had no idea how he was supposed to sleep over. Was I supposed to make him lie on top of my covers?
He said again, that he didn't want to have sex with me, and because I felt the same way (not that the chemistry wasn't there, it was, in a held back sort of way) I said I guess it would be ok if he stayed over and we just both had pjs on. (We both sleep in the nude normally.)
At some point he kissed me. I wasn't expecting it at all, but I didn't not kiss him back, and then I was shy all over again.
And then he told me he was going out for a smoke.
I didn't even know what to say.
I don't remember what I did say, but I did think about asking him to leave. But I guess I was already used to the idea of having someone to share my bed with that night and I was sleepy and the buses had stopped running and I didn't want to have to drive him home.
But he stank when he came back in.
And I told him so.
Told him I didn't want him anywhere near me and that he was stinking up my whole house and that he wasn't even allowed in my bedroom without taking a shower and I don't know what I was feeling at that point but I wasn't impressed. With him, or especially with myself.
His clothes stank, and I gave him something to change into and when he kissed me he tasted gross and I just hate everything about dating a smoker so much.
By the next morning I could taste the grossness in my mouth too, the stale disgusting smoke nastiness and it pissed me off.
We talked a bit, smooched a bit, slept a bit, and the next morning we just kind of lay in bed, just having slept together (just slept), and cuddled I guess, but nothing more than that.
At some point Saturday morning he went out for another smoke and I swore and gave him the finger and told him I hated it and that I would be asking him to stop smoking around me. He said he knew that and he figured it would be happening pretty soon too.
He said, again, that he didn't think the smoking thing was going to be a big issue between us, because he'd already been on the road to quitting before I came along.
I think I don't buy this, and I think it might just end up being a really big issue between us. Or even maybe the reason there is no us in the end. I don't know.
But I realized I wanted to spend more time with him (no, I can't really put my finger on why) but I also wasn't feeling 100% and wanted some space and time to myself so I asked him if he'd like to stay again Saturday night (no, I don't know why) and he said he'd like that too and he went home for a while.
It was weird but not weird and good and awkward and not what I'd imagined and uncertain but ok all at once.
I really didn't try to think too much about it, but... well, you know me.
But it was when he left that I really really really really really started to miss Jay and really wanted to talk to him and feel connected to and with him.
I could almost taste it. That's how much I wanted what we had back again.
Everything Jason and I didn't have.
Which is really not fair to anyone.
But it is what it is.
And I don't know what any of this means or will end up being.
And I'm trying to be ok with that.