Some day, SOME day, a prince will come. You just have to be able to recognize him. (The eyes....they reveal everything.)

You don't love someone for their looks, or their clothes, or for their fancy car, but because they sing a song only you can hear.”

I declined his first offer for dinner.

I decided early on in the “match.com dating adventure” that I wasn’t going to respond to anyone whose profile did not show a picture.  It wasn’t necessarily because I wanted to be sure the person I was talking to didn’t have two heads, but mostly because I didn’t think it was fair.  I had posted not only pictures of myself, but also a few of me with my family.  If I had the nerve to, then I would hope that others would do the same.

And so I respectfully declined that particular invitation.

It was more than several weeks later when I received another email from this particular gentleman, along with a picture of him.  It said, in essence, “I’ve been thinking about you, and would really love to have dinner.  If nothing else we could have a great meal and make a new friend.  As I see it, we have nothing to lose.” 

I smiled, and in spite of the fact that he was 6’6” tall and towered over all the others in the picture, I replied with a yes.   If he had really been thinking of me for weeks and was brave enough to ask me to dinner again after having been denied, I felt he deserved a shot.  (There’s a lot to be said for persistence.)

After all, aren’t I the one who always claims that you have to say yes to things, that you have to live life and jump at every opportunity?  Sure, it’s important to stay safe, but dinner in a public place seems relatively safe to me. 

I said yes.

We met at a nice restaurant near my home during a raging thunderstorm.  I met him at the hostess stand where he stood, a tad wet, with a smile and a package in his hand.  After we were seated he handed me the bag from Barnes and Nobles.

“I thought you might enjoy these,” he said with a smile.

I reached into the bag and pulled out not only a Time and Newsweek magazine, but also an anthology of New York Times Crossword puzzles!  He HAD read my profile…apparently with a fine-toothed comb.

We spent the next several hours sharing stories, laughing, and having a really, really good time.  He walked me to my car, opened my door and I thanked him for a lovely night.

That was that.

I went about my business, had a few other dates with several other gentlemen and then received another offer from the tall one. This one included a list of many choices, but I smiled and replied that dinner would be just lovely. After all, I’d had a great time with him, and he was a nice man.  (I was unknowingly suffering from a BLOWN HIP JOINT, and was uncomfortable doing anything that required a lot of walking.)

This time he picked my up.  I figured that I knew his NAME, he was well known in the neighboring community, and if he WERE to murder me it might be a blessing in disguise.

We had dinner in a lovely restaurant down the road from my house.  It had a great reputation, wonderful food and an outdoor dining area that was quite lovely.   

He seemed more confident and more at ease. He took charge by ordering an appetizer and drinks, and we settled into easy, comfortable conversation.  We shared our day, stories from work, and laughed and laughed about this and that.  There was never a lull in the conversation and it was as if we had known each other for a long, long time.

He was in the middle of a funny story when I looked into his clear blue eyes and felt a spark.  We laughed together when he finished, and his eyes continued to mesmerize me.  I felt something stirring, tugging inside my heart, and continued to stare at him as if seeing him for the first time.  I hadn’t realized how attractive he was.  He was only a few years older than me, and his short white hair was quite attractive.  Frankly, the hair and the crisp blue eyes were reeling me in.

We finished our date, and walked comfortably to the car.  He opened the door, helped me in and drove to my home. He dropped me off and we said our polite goodbyes.  I stood watching as he pulled away, shocked about what was stirring inside my soul. 

 “What was this?  What was happening?” I thought to myself. “This was not what I had planned.”

I received flowers several days later… and some lovely emails, as we continued to get to know each other.  I felt a bit worried, hoping that I wouldn’t rush into anything.  I wanted to be sure that I only gave my heart to someone who I thought would hold mine with the utmost care.

And then I felt the nudge.   That little voice inside my heart that said, “If you don’t give it your all, then you will never know. You have to let go, and let it happen.”

And I did.

And Mr. Darcy?  Well, he’s one of THEM. You know, one of those men that we’ve heard about in stories of old.  The ones that hold the door for you, open the car door and insist that you wait for it.  The man that thinks of your comfort, and your feelings, the one that will send you flowers, bring you chips, light candles for you and take you on weekend trips to see your daughter play field hockey without hesitation.

And when he finds out that your little hip problem requires a NEW HIP and a SIX-WEEK recuperation, does he go running for the hills? Does he say, “Don’t call me, I’ll call YOU?”

No.

He takes off work so that he can escort you to the hospital, brings you ice packs, buys you a cool cane and plans your recuperation schedule with your best friend, sister and daughters.

That’s the kind of man I saw that night at dinner.  I looked into those beautiful blue eyes and I spotted a prince.

A real, honest to God prince. 

(And not a minute too soon.)