A breath of fresh air

This one goes out to the guy a few days back who was flirting with me, ever so gently.

Thanks that the first words out of your mouth didn't reference (or try to skirt around) my illness.

Thanks for the honest surprise when I, bare-headed with downy Chia-pet-hair, told you I'd had cancer. (Thinking the haircut was concomitant with my "sporty look" and G.I. Jane lifestyle gains you bonus points - in fact, truly believing I was some sort of athlete, after a summer of hardly working out due to treatments and side effects, gains you super-bonus-points.)

Thanks for being interested but not prurient; respectful but not embarrassed. You shook my hand without wringing it, looked me in the eye without staring, and never found yourself saying, "I'm so glad you're...still with us..." and lapsing off into uncomfortable silences.

Thanks for using the word "strong" to talk about my body, not my constitution, attitude, or person. Thanks that the "cancer reference story" you used to qualify your concern and interest didn't end in "it was a hard battle for him, but eventually he died".

Thanks for assuming I'd be going to work throughout, and not putting my personal and career goals on hold, or replacing them with a simple wish for survival.

Thanks for neither ignoring nor indulging news of my illness: you simply acknowledged it and moved on. Thanks for conducting several different interesting conversations, none of which centered around cancer - or even mentioned it much.

I don't know your last name, we live in different cities, and I'm sure I'll never see you again, but thanks. You made me feel like a real, ordinary person - attractive besides - and it was refreshing.