Officially Older

So now it's over. I am officially older. I enjoyed the most wonderful dinner with the most wonderful man, who listens to me and looks at me when he talks. I wore the same outfit I wore on our first date. The little black dress with the sassy red shoes. I don't think he noticed, but I don't mind. That was a long time ago. Anyway, dinner. I ate too much food, and drank too much wine. And this man is so thoughtful, so great, that he brought his own birthday candles and lighter so I could make a wish with every course. This is a reason that I am still so in love with him.
We talked about lots of things, and he told me (like he always does) that I will meet someone and fall in love with them and forget all about how bad I feel now because we're not together. And he apologizes, which is not necessary, because I'm not looking for apologies. And I tell him that I disagree with him, because he is exactly who I want to be with, and there is no man alive that is like he is. He probably thinks I am saying this to make him feel good, or as mere flattery, but the truth is, I don't really want to say it. It would be much easier to say yes, there is someone out there who is the right one, who will make me happier, so I don't need you. But that isn't how I feel. This man is exactly as I want a partner to be. The better I know him, the more perfect he is. And he thinks I'm imagining things. But these things are real; the calming quality of his voice, the sway in his walk, the rambunctious curls of his hair. These are the things that soften the edges of the world and make it more palatable.
So I wish. I'm trying to keep it simple. Is the wish more powerful if you wish it more than once? I just want to get laid. Still, it's not simple enough. It seems like such a selfish wish, but I gave up wishing for world peace after the last election. So I'm drunk, I say goodnight, and walk back to my car. I crawl in the back seat and curl up under my big sweater. This should be fine until I feel up to driving. This is better than begging. But he eventually comes out to get me. He won't let me sleep in the car. I expect him to be mad, but he isn't. And he drives me home. And we talk some more about us. I hate doing this when wine is in the equation, because I always say too much. I feel humiliated for having to be "rescued" from my back seat. I try to apologize, and he won't let me. I'm afraid he might think I'm manipulating him in some way. I'm not. I gave that up years ago. I can't apologize enough. I don't want to be a burden. Or a responsibility. Or a liability. He doesn't seem upset. He's not even irritated. He is the most amazing person I have ever known. He gave me a great birthday.