Catch and Release: July, 2009

I can tell, even before I start writing, that this column will be one of those polarizing ones that gets me in trouble and/or brings me accolades for my brutal/open honesty.

A few months ago, my BFF told me I needed to meet one of her clients. She described her as smart, funny, cute and Jewish. “Peach-cute,” she said. So I friended Media Planning Woman (wow, that’s a mouthful. How about MPW?) on Facebook, and our emails that week took on a playful tone, with plenty of banter and pop culture references. By the time we finally met the following Saturday, we were both pretty excited.

She’d suggested meeting for coffee (which I abhor), so I countered that we ought to do something more interactive, which put planning our first date right back in my lap. We met outside the neighborhood Starbucks (both of our smiles so broad they almost hurt) and I drove her to the art museum, a sprawling edifice in downtown Denver.

We didn’t even see the artwork for the first hour or so, as we wandered the museum. We had too much to say to each other, and were too busy making each other laugh, to bother with the sculptures and paintings. Plus, we started out in the modern art wing, which was a little too trippy and disturbing to warm our souls. I suggested the comfort food side of the museum, so we wandered to the Impressionists and European masters.   We’d stop and sit on benches, telling each other stories, commenting on the artwork, then meander elsewhere. By the time the docents kicked us out, MPW and I had achy cheek muscles from all the smiling and laughing. We grabbed beers and a yummy cheese plate close by, but she had dinner plans with family, so we had to end the date after only, like, five hours of pure pleasure. She didn’t want to leave.

I dropped her off at her car and gave her a hug and started to drive away when she waved me back.

“I never gave you my number!” she laughed.

When I jumped out to exchange digits, I pulled her to me and kissed her on the lips. She kissed me back hard and walked away.

We spent the next three evenings finding fun activities to share, not able to get enough of each other. My friends called her “Lisa Loeb cute,” which was fine with me, because I thought she was way beyond pretty. Although we spent a lot of time together, we still took things slowly. She admitted to having had her heart broken a few months back, so I took it easy on her. Or so I thought.

We’d cook meals together, or walk downtown for a movie. She showed up at one of my events; I couldn’t help but smile at her across the room, and tell my friends about her. Sometimes, when we were walking in public, she’d take my hand and hold it, which made me both happy and a tiny bit uncomfortable.

I had a few reservations about her - she was under 30, could be a little hard to read sometimes (which I kind of liked, but which also would leave me flummoxed and confused)...and there were other little things. But she was also ridiculously smart, stomachachingly hilarious, and really, really easy to be around. I liked her subdued energy — we could disclose what was going on for each us really well (I could actually talk to her), but we could also just...be with each other, quietly, contentedly.

But not really understanding our status, and feeling those reservations, I held back. I tried not to be too available, I’d make plans without her, and I tried not to be too lovey with her. I didn’t want to scare her away, and I wasn’t sure about her, so I kept myself reigned in. Or so I thought.

I was a little surprised when she didn’t respond to my texts and calls for a few days. When she did finally email me, to tell me that she’d been thinking about things and that we should probably talk, I wrote back that it would probably be easier on both of us if she just put it in an email. If you’re a woman, you may prefer a phone call or an in-person explanation. I respect that. I’ll call you or sit down and talk to you. But, as a guy, I don’t need you to extend the heartache. Put it in a text. Write it in an email. I don’t need to hear it in your voice or see it in your face.

By the time the email showed up in my inbox, there was no way anything she wrote could shock me. She said she was still feeling heartbroken by her debacle of six months ago. She said she really tried to make things work with me. She said she could tell I was getting attached, but she just wasn’t ready. She said all of those “you’re a great guy” platitudes (which I never actually read before deleting the email). I took it gracefully, complimented her back, and told my friends that I wasn’t overly disappointed, because I wasn’t sure how much longer I would have lasted with her. My friends shrugged, I shrugged, and that was that.

But.

The more I thought about it, the more I wondered. I took her explanation at face value, but I couldn’t help thinking that I’d used those same (still heartbroken, too busy, too stressed, or other “it’s not you, it’s me”) excuses to get out of a nascent relationship that wasn’t working for me (you know who you are; please forgive me). So I couldn’t help wondering if MPW was doing the same thing. Maybe there was something I did or didn’t do; maybe I was too old for her or too social; maybe it was because I’m a parent. I drifted into that cycle of self-flagellation until I finally realized it didn’t really matter.

I’m just accepting her reasons, because I can’t imagine she would have held back from telling me anything but the truth. We were always honest with each other. I definitely miss spending time with her - those low-key do-nothing evenings were pretty great, and being out with her was always fun.

But what’s interesting about all this is how her reasons actually helped me to be extra honest about my own reasons for breaking things off with other women recently.

The first time was just a few weeks ago, when an adorable woman from the midwest bullied and badgered me into giving her a chance. Let’s just say she continued to make a case for herself until I could no longer resist. Our first date lasted hours and hours. She pressed me to keep an open mind, even though I really didn’t think we were right for each other. I enjoyed her company. Her manic energy, though exhausting, was charming. She bore a striking resemblance, body-wise, to the Bombshell. She smelled good.

But it didn’t take me long to realize that our life situations and her aforementioned energy were going to render us incompatible. So, you know what? I told her.

Okay... the first time I told her, we were both kind of drunk, and she stayed anyway. But the second time I told her, it was in no uncertain terms. She said that she understood, and thanked me. She said her friends and family were telling her that she was high-strung lately, but that I was the first to really get through to her. And then she told me that we should take a break from each other until she was in a better place, because, after that, I’d see just how great it could be. I laughed and told her not to get her hopes up, but we left things with both of us smiling.

(She recently told me my stance that we’re incompatible is “bullshit,” but she now calls me her “sweet friend,” so I think we’re good).

The best, though, was just last week. After several great dates and other fun experiences together, I was starting to realize that the (1. gorgeous 2. wickedly funny 3. extremely intelligent 4. incredibly generous) woman I was seeing, as much as I liked her, wasn’t going to be right for me in the long term. There was something missing. One of the ways I could tell was in the fact that I felt like I needed to hold back in my interactions with her. I could be warm, to a point. I could be romantic, but never too much so. I would make plans with my pals or even just take some time alone, even when it might be our only chance to get together.

I wasn’t being myself - I wasn’t being loving or overly sweet, or at least not as much as I could have been. I wasn’t going out of my way to spend time with her (like she did for me), when our opportunities were so limited. I loved it when we’d get together, but I didn’t crave those chances. There was spark, to be sure, but the shiver and anticipation were missing. So I wasn’t acting like the warm, caring, me. I was keeping something in reserve.

I knew it wasn’t quite right, and she got that impression, too. When I sucked it up and told her how much I enjoyed her company, but that I didn’t see an “us” in the future, she was wonderfully understanding, though disappointed. She wrote me the kindest email the next day, thanking me for my honesty. She said very sweet and positive things about me, which I actually believed for a little while. She rewarded me for being totally open with her; for not making excuses about being stressed, over-extended, or spread thin (which I am); she gave me kudos for just telling her the truth.

And you know what? Now I feel like it’s safe to be warm with her - to check up on her after a recent injury, and to give her a call just to catch up. I’m not worried about sending the wrong impression, because we had our talk, so now I can be loving, without the mixed messages.

“I’m not the one,” she said. “I get that.”

So it doesn’t matter if MPW really did like me but wasn’t ready for a relationship, or just needed to put it that way to get out of the situation while trying to protect my feelings (like I said, please forgive me for that same transgression).

What’s important (to me) is that she woke me up to behave better — to end things honestly, as soon as I know, rather than make excuses and/or drag things out. I think I’ve been better at that in general, these last several months, but now I’m even more committed than ever to holding out for the woman who can handle the love I have to offer, who smells right, who feels right, who is right for me. And if we try and it’s not working, I’m okay with telling the truth. And receiving it, of course.

By email, please.

Comments

[Sam]

So based on this...

"I’m not worried about sending the wrong impression, because we had our talk, so now I can be loving, without the mixed messages."

Have you ever done this, then slept with the girl after the fact - because you "had your talk" and she should know it doesn't really mean anything?

I'm seriously asking here...

[Daisy Cottontail]

Ah yes, the metaphorical "Blue Whale." I personally don't like the e-mail approach but after reading your perspective it resonates.

She's out there.

[Singlegal]

I wholeheartedly agree with providing honest feedback toward the end of a "relationship." But interestingly, I find I rarely get it. And, on the few instances where I've been pushed to give it (and I will), I've learned that the guy didn't *really* want to know. Then why did you ask?
Anyway, not sure why you think you'd be in trouble. This process is a never-ending learning cycle.
Your post is thoughtful and insightful, as always.
SG

[Eric]

Sam, I have, and it's rarely ended well. I've sworn off doing that anymore. Mostly (and in the rare occasion where I've gone there in the recent past, I've tried to reiterate "the talk" before things got too heated).