An interesting side effect of the new regime has been a sort of slimmed down, distilled outlook on dating and its relationship to my life. Holding myself (and my dates) to a higher standard has meant a lot more time alone, but it has also translated to more time with my pals (and my liver thanks you for asking about its health).
At first, the long off-duty weekends of relative isolation were all-day wallowfests, where I’d sleep in, make breakfast, then sink into the couch and watch DVRed TV shows one right after the other. I wouldn’t budge unless forced into action by:
a) being guilted into catching up with friends
b) becoming so disgusted by the state of the house that I had to do something about it
c) looking in the fridge to find a dangerous and depressing lack of comestibles
But as the weeks went by, I was able to look at myself in a critical way, and realize I was putting so much stake in the empty roster that I was losing perspective in what was really good and important in my life. I began to prioritize in different directions, focusing more on taking care of myself and relishing the gifts that unscheduled time had to offer. The result has been three-fold: it has made me feel much better about this hiatus in ongoing romance because I finally see just how beneficial alone time can be; it has made me aware of how much I’ll relish and appreciate a meaningful relationship when it finally finds its way to me; and it has given me the space to find a sort of clarity about my own interactions with women.
Three related stories:
1) A couple months ago, I was pinged on Yahoo! IM by a woman I met briefly a few years ago. She was half-in/half-out of a relationship when I first met her. I didn’t know her situation when I agreed to meet her for tea, and was flummoxed at her disclosure, but managed to really enjoy her company. I didn’t see her again, and only heard from her sporadically as she and the father of her second child traveled the world with her two daughters. So I was pretty surprised to get an instant message from her, learning that she was living nearby, sharing custody of the kids with her ex. She insisted we meet for beers, and she made it easy by coming to the bar across the street from my place.
She was smart and excitingly well-read, very pretty, and fun to talk to. We had a great time reconnecting, so the next time she was in town she stopped by my place. It was late at night. We ended up in bed, clothed, talking about our lives. In the past, I would have moved to escalate things physically, but because I was unsure of how I felt about her, and wasn’t feeling that deep, painful shiver and spark, I let things unfold at a more measured pace, which left time for us to speak honestly about our situations.
When she stopped talking and made her move, it was with a full comprehension about the limits of our interactions. In fact, she emailed me the next day, recognizing in no uncertain terms our physical attraction to each other but a lack of that sensation of long-term potential. She said she wanted to be friends, to be able to meet for the occasional drink and/or romp, without either of us holding out for, or expecting, more. And though those interludes were really fun, and pushed my internal reset button (imagine “Lost,” season II), and though I really enjoy talking books and movies with her, the time we spent in bed didn’t satisfy the craving for communion that has taken shape inside me. Even though everything delivered on a physical level in a very real way, it was never quite enough; never quite what I was hoping for.
Take-home Lesson #1:
What’s exciting about what happened, though, besides giving me insight about the differences between a physical and emotional connection (and besides making a new friend), was how it opened my eyes to a deeper need.
These days, I’m craving an all-day movie and snuggle-fest more than some short-term fun in bed. I’m aching for the easy comfort of a curl-up on the couch and for someone who wants to have a “how was your day?” conversation after turning off the light and wrapping ourselves around each other. And though this sweet woman would have been willing to do all of those things, we both knew something was missing from the equation.
2) I went on some dates with a well-loved bartender a couple months ago, and it was the most traditional courtship I’d had in a very long time. We had romantic dinners and fun times out, and I even cooked for her one night — we ended up watching a movie on the couch and dozing off in each other’s arms once the flick had ended. She left me around midnight with only a kiss, but I’d learned in those three great dates that she was intelligent and thoughtful, and so much more than just a hot, Jewish drink-slinger.
But when I told her so, I think it scared her off. When I left it to her to reach out to me and pick our next outing, I didn’t hear from her for more than a week. And when she did IM me via Facebook, she promised a call very soon. It never came.
Take-home Lesson #2:
Here’s the thing about me: if I like you, you know it. I’ve grown weary of the “does she or doesn’t she” guessing game, so I tend to be free and authentic with the compliments. I can’t seem to hide my interest or excitement about someone with potential very well. Sometimes it’s met with equal enthusiasm, and sometimes it makes the girl disappear, without even the consideration of an explanatory text, email, or phone call.
The lesson for me, though, is this. Even if she goes away, I still feel better for getting my feelings out there. If I find you smart and charming, if you’re someone I want to spend more time with, I’m just going to tell you. I’m going to put it on the table so you don’t have to wonder about it, and so that I know you know. If you don’t feel the same way, I won’t be offended when you tell me so. But you gotta say something. Just tell me. Don’t leave me guessing.
And if you do feel the same way, but you’re too bound up in your own baggage to be able to express it, and my honesty makes you want to run and hide, well, that’s really too bad, because you’re missing out on something spectacular.
3) There are still days when I miss the Peach so much I hold my stomach and groan. I have not reached out to her in the last six months. I tell myself it’s just residual rib pain, I take a deep breath, and bring myself back to the present.
The other day, though, Simone said to me, “You know who I really miss a lot?” and she mentioned the Peach’s name. I told her that it was okay to miss her, that I did, too, but that things just didn’t work out for us.
Simone said that maybe things would change, and we’d be back together. She said, “And then I’ll have another mother!” I smiled and hugged her, and told her not to count on that anytime soon.
Take-home Lesson #3:
Sometimes, in the course of my thoughts about finding the right girl for me, I forget to dive deep into the implications of what it would mean for Simone long-term. Because I tend to wait and wait before Simone and someone I’m dating start hanging out together, there’s always time to sort out the woman’s willingness and potential for integrating into our lives.
But Simone’s quip reminded me of just how important it is to keep her in my mind from the very beginning of a new romance. The Peach was so amazing with her, and the three of us were like our own family for several months. It was a beautiful time for all of us. I look forward to times like that again. Obviously, Simone craves them too.
So I need to visualize that future earlier in the dating process, because it’s just as important as the shiver and spark to the sustainability of the relationship I’m holding out for. That means not dating the wry, acerbic types I’m such a sucker for. Or the ones who don’t want kids someday. I need to hold out for more than a wicked sense of humor and a brilliant intellectual mind. I need someone with warmth and love AND intelligence. And a great smile. And a hot body.
Anyway, these are special, challenging times for me. I have a lot on my mind, but I have friends who insist that I put my melancholy behind me and enjoy the freedom and gifts that my urban, independent life and career have to offer. And though I still suffer from the occasional deep lows, where I’m so blue just dealing with the basics of life are a challenge, my little girl, my family, my friends, and my own drive to keep moving forward, to stay in the present, and to hold out for real happiness sustain me, lift me, and help me maintain perspective.
I’m learning something new every single day, and, when the time is right, I’m going to make someone really happy.
Life is good.
Recent Comments