I don't know what it is about my birthday that re-invigorates my interest in dating. Perhaps it is its close proximity to Valentine's Day? As mother to one kid already, it’s certainly not the ticking of my biological clock. Maybe it’s just the fact that I am usually doing a production of the Vagina Monologues and therefore feeling empowered and sparkly? Whatever it is seems to draw men to me--or at least I am noticing them more. And they seem to be noticing me. Unfortunately, that's where it usually ends.
I recently joked with my L'il Sis that this yearly flux in my singlehood paradigm is because I subconsciously feel the need to "lock it down" (a relationship) before my birthday--if only so I don't have to waste yet another birthday wish on Love. This, of course, is an absolutely ridiculous notion. I don't only wish for Love. Johnny Depp and a million dollars would be nice too.
But I digress. Where was I? Oh, yes.
Speaking of guys noticing me...There is a guy I’ve recently started crushing on. Of course I have. He’s whippet smart, has a good job and is quick on his feet. I dig his sense of humor and his quirky nature. When I mentioned this crush to a friend of mine, she said, “Well, yeah, I knew you liked him when you met him.” Wait, what? That was news to me!
I first met him a few years ago as I was entering a particularly low point in my life: I had just shaved my head for charity, which, while empowering, wreaked havoc on my ideas about my appearance. I was working on a show which can only be described as soul sucking. I was heading into the first phase of my Re-Virgination Project (aka Singlehood). Crap with the ex was at its pinnacle. In short, I wasn’t ready for a relationship with anyone other than myself (and even that relationship wasn’t going that well). I could scarcely have contemplated being attracted to anyone. I was completely unaware of any feelings I may or may not have had for him.
As life would have it, I continued to run into him at various social gatherings over the years. I vaguely remember one late night conversation standing on a curb. I don’t know why we were there or even what we’d discussed. His ex-girlfriend maybe. I may have even thought, “He’s interesting.” And that was that. In subsequent years, we always exchanged pleasantries, maybe a light flirt or a hug. I enjoyed his company, his energy and the easy conversation, but it was never anything more than in passing.
So imagine my surprise when, at yet another innocuous social gathering, he boldly confessed that he’d been flirting with me all those years ago. I, in all my smoothness and subtlety, responded with, “No, you weren’t!” Or maybe a better way to say that is, I scoffed. In my disbelief, I actually scoffed.
“Oh no,” he replied. “I was totally digging your gravy. I thought you were digging mine.”
I started to blush as realization set in. “I was digging your gravy...Oh god, I am blushing.”
“Good,” he said, coyly putting his arm around me.
At which point we were interrupted. I had to leave the party shortly thereafter, thus suspending the conversation.
That could have very well been the end of it if not for my stubborn refusal to let it conclude there. Dammit, I was not going to let that opportunity pass. And, truth be told, I was curious. I already knew how talented and funny he was. He’s a great guy. What would it hurt?
I messaged him on Facebook the next day. Ah, the modern age of dating. No phone numbers, just Facebook. I apologized for our untimely interruption and said I would be interested in finishing our conversation. Would he like to get coffee or drinks sometime?
DING. “Drinks would be lovely.” YES!!!
Thus begins what sounds like the makings of a better romantic comedy, right? Not quite.
Oh, I’d hoped it would be, of course, but clearly, dating can no longer be as simple as two people liking each other and it going from there. As excited as I was about this guy, we just couldn’t seem to get it together. After our first date (which I thoroughly enjoyed. I thought he did too), we tried several times to schedule another. It never happened. Because we are busy people trying to accommodate time together, it shouldn’t surprise me that he canceled, but it did. And he did. Every single time. Of course, I was disappointed. Worse than that, I started to feel that I was forcing him into something in which he really had no interest, despite having first approached me. I know he is sometimes shy (hi, three years to ever say anything), but I had been initiating most of the ensuing contact. I started to feel like I was chasing him--and chasing was becoming stalking. I am not a fan of doing either.
So now I’m stuck. My inner Feminist is at war with the Girl. I should be a secure, strong Woman, able to go after what I want, right? Unfortunately, I am also an Overthinker (yes, a serious flaw, I know). It makes me anxious when I don’t see actions to support words--or, hell, when I don’t have any communication at all. I’m trying to be patient, but instead feel stupid for having made myself vulnerable...for getting so damned excited over possibility. I really don’t know if I should wait it out and give it another chance or let it fade away, enjoying it as a nice passing moment in time. I certainly don’t have anything concrete on which to base my decision, just how it seems when our lives happen to intersect (i.e a semi-random, unplanned meeting at a bar after an event). Maybe, in this case, “lock it down” means “close the door”?
Ah well. I guess we’ll see what happens. At least I got a pretty great make-out session out of it.
Until next time, my Lovelies....
