You took me here for our first date, and I was more shocked at how many questions you asked about me than the fact that this was only my first time meeting you. It felt like I knew you for awhile and we were old lovers trying to rekindle a past romance. I haven’t met anyone who paid attention like you did. Like you really cared about every little thing I had to say. When people ask questions, it’s usually out of politeness. But with you, you genuinely wanted to know. You wanted to get to know me as if I was the most interesting thing you ever beheld, and I don’t usually encounter people who took interest like that. I haven’t opened up as easily as that. And when I left to go to the restroom, you slipped away to pay for the bill without me knowing, and I just didn’t know what else to do but say thank you a million times, like it was the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me on a date. The fact that you didn’t have to let me see you act like a gentleman tells a whole different story. I don’t know if I was more embarrassed at my clumsy way of showing you how thankful I was for the kind gesture but you really were amazingly gentle the evening that followed. You kissed me on the cheek goodnight and said “thank you for being a perfect date” when I should have been the one to thank you for giving me hope in men. You held the car door and offered me your sweater when it got chilly, and asked if I would want to spend another evening with you, and I liked that. I liked that you worded it that way. I liked that you gave me the choice as if the night was mine to spend. Thank you for not letting chivalry die.