The DTR

Before I started nursing school I had no idea an entire conversation could be had using abbreviations. I guess, with the advent of texting, teens (and people much hipper than me) have been conversing in the language of abbreviation for almost a decade now. Well, in the midst of learning the new language of abbreviated medical terminology, a fellow nursing student taught me a new dating abbreviation: the DTR. Commonly known as deep tendon reflexes in hospitals nationwide, the urban dictionary defines DTR as, "Define The Relationship. When two people discuss their mutual understanding of a romantic relationship (casual dating, serious boyfriend, etc)."

Girls talk about the DTR a lot when dating. She wonders when her new beau will bring it up, when he'll introduce her as his girlfriend to his friends or coworkers, and when she'll inevitably slip and call him her boyfriend in casual conversation. For some reason, though, in my spastic bouts of commitment phobia (especially since starting the blog) I haven't thought much about the DTR. Quite honestly, there hasn't been a date with which I wanted to start the journey that begins by means of the DTR (Okay, okay I did marry that one guy in my head, but that was just silly!)

So, I'm guessing you all know where this is going...that's right, SG#1 initiated the DTR.

It was Friday night (you know it's really getting serious when you make it onto his calendar on a Friday or a Saturday). I don't know why, but I had a serious fashion crisis and tried on almost every dress, pair of jeans and shirt I own (thank my lucky stars I have friends like Coqueta who shook me into submitting to outfit number 57 two minutes before SG#1 arrived). He picked me up and surprised me with dinner at Matt's in the Market, a restaurant I've wanted to try for years - at least 10 points for SG#1 right there! The restaurant, appropriately described as "casual fine dining," has imaginatively delicious food and a very serious Seattle following.

As our entree hit the table - we both ordered the halibut, I know, super cheesy, but it came highly recommended and it was FANTASTIC - SG#1 asked me to wait before eating. Mouth watering and heart pounding, I stared back, confused as to what would justify letting such a delightful dinner go cold.

"I have a question to ask you."

I could feel all the ears at the table next to us stand up like a German Shepard alerted to danger.

"You should quit the blog and date me exclusively."

"I can't quit the blog!"

I actually said that. SG#1 planned a beautiful evening, surprised me with a restaurant he didn't even know I've been dying to try and I blurted out my total dedication to a blog about dating that I'm pretty sure he loathes now that everyone from his 6th cousin twice removed to his boss's boss is reading every detail about his dating life (and he's out of the country with limited Internet access, so he won't know about the post for at least another 9 days, not that I'm counting).

"I mean, I don't need to quit the blog to date you exclusively. I'm going on 100 dates, not dating 100 guys!"

I back paddled into a seemingly more appropriate response to such a flattering and heart-felt gesture.

"So is that a yes?"

"Well, you didn't actually ask a question, it was more of a statement."

Insert uncomfortable silence.

"Yes! Yes of course!"

The foursome at the table next to us all leaned in as if I had just responded to THE question and without sight of something sparkly, nervous laughter trickled into a quiet lull. We started eating and the thought of being asked to be exclusive began to settle in. Truth be told, I don't recall ever having a DTR with someone I've dated. And, although I've been in long term relationships, no one has ever actually asked me to date them exclusively (apparently once you pass 25, you don't say "boyfriend," so I think that makes SG#1 either my "exclusive partner" or maybe my "special friend," in case exclusivity suddenly begs for a title).

Perhaps it was the pressure from his friends who were already teasingly calling me his girlfriend, the possibility of me dating 62 other people to fulfill my 100 date quota or the fact that he was leaving town (allowing me time to find said 62 dates) that prompted such a formal proposal for exclusivity. Whatever it was, I liked it. And, not to sound like a 7th grader with her first crush, but, I like him and I think this means he likes me too!