Rebel Prince

Last Friday, before heading to Lisner for Bye Bye Birdie, Thom and I had dinner at Nectar, a swank little restaurant nearby at The George Washington University Inn. And I do mean little; the dining room is about the size of a large garage. But it’s a warmly decorated and intimate space. I had a salad (spicy greens, fresh herbs, seaweed, and sesame) and the salmon (served with beets and caviar, nicely presented on a square glass plate, textured and translucent). The service was by turns attentive and underattentive, but foodwise everything was very good. Mmm.

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I tend not to write about The Relationship per se, so the following might sound cryptic. It’s perhaps more for me than you, but here it goes anyway. Recent misunderstandings, since resolved, give me pause to reflect briefly on the importance of communication. I know, obvious, right? I’m not making excuses, but for an introvert (and sometime loner) like me, not very experienced in the dating world at that, my default mode has been all about listening and (over)processing, and less about talking and expressing. Put another way, for so long my main conduit of communication has been with myself, internalized—I call this not so much “talking to myself,” but rather “talking as if someone else were there”—and sometimes I forget that there really is a whole other person there, looking out for me, loving me.

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