There's Hope

Tonight I met the man I'm going to marry. 

By that, I mean that I had a first date with a guy who I thought was attractive and we had things in common.

I know internet dating is a numbers game, but I feel like the odds should have played out awhile ago.

Please please please internet dating gods, make this 32nd first date in the last year the magic number!

And Sometimes, Women are Mind Fucks

I did something last night that I've never done before:  I watched a movie with a man.

To be clear, in the past, I have watched ten minutes of a movie with many men.  By the time the plot gets going we are making out, headed towards horizontal land, movie forgotten.  I have a short attention span, and I would rather be having sex than sitting for two hours staring at a screen.  Usually the men I date are in agreement with this policy.

But last night, I went over the the home of my hiking buddy that I'd been having regrets about friend-zoning two months ago, and we watched a movie.  I mean, really watched a movie.  I tried my best to flirt, touched his arm, laughed, angled my body towards him, but I could not close the deal.  We sat inches apart on his sofa, both of us wishing that he had the guts to make a move.

And then I was reminded of why I friend-zoned him two months ago.  He is odd!  He is crazy-smart (I saw him solve a rubik's cube in under two minutes), attractive, and interesting to talk to, but he is a born-and-raised Seattle man: shy, passive, and a bit of a loner.  I find the geekiness endearing, but I wish it came with a splash of self-confidence.

After an hour of sitting side by side on his couch, I realized I was not going to get any.  I started to fall asleep, and I excused myself to go home.

Now I have to refriend-zone a guy who I tried to unfriend-zone after previously friend-zoning him.  Not complicated.  Not complicated at all.


 

If we never said a word to each other in high school because we had nothing in common and you were kind of weird and socially awkward, please don't send me a message on OkCupid suggesting that we go out because we went to the same high school.  That does not count as having something in common.  While we're at it, I'm not approving your Facebook friend request either- mostly because we aren't friends.

Thanks, and happy dating Seattle!

Whoops

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.  I fucked up.  Two months ago I went on a date with a man my friend suggested I should meet.  I had a good time, but he was quiet and soft-spoken- a little too reserved for my taste.  I did not feel any sparks so when he asked me out again, I told him that I'd had a good time but was not interested dating-wise.  I said I would want to hang out again as friends.  He sheepishly agreed. 

I was looking for a hiking partner this weekend, and I asked him if he wanted to come along.  Boulder-hopping and making marmot calls in the middle of Mt. Rainier National Park, I found myself  having a great time with a man I'd blown off  two months ago.  Why did I not see this before?  He was cute and smart and while still quiet, was easier to talk to once we'd spent several hours together and felt more comfortable.

I should have given it time before jumping into friendship mode.  Now I'm in the position of wanting to date someone who I specifically told I was not interested.  If my past experience with men is any indication, I feel like he would still date me. Can this be remedied with a couple beers?


 

Friends with Exes

I watched Celeste and Jesse Forever by myself in a movie theater this week, tears streaming down my cheeks.  It is a movie about the bond between exes, and it hit close to home.

I have been in love three times.  An additional three times, men were in love with me.  That brings me to six relationships, over the course of my life, where love was present, even if one-sided.  And out of those six relationships, there are five men who I honestly wish the best for.  I do not keep in touch with all of them, but when I hear through the grapevine that they are doing well, I feel happy inside.  When I hear that they are hurting, I ache too.

The one exception is painful for me.  It is my infamous exboyfriend-the one who, in effect, started my dating saga and inspired this blog.  One of our last conversations still haunts me every day:

"We were so happy together.  What is it that she has that I don't?"

"Youth," he replied.  "And I really love her kid."

I replay that scene in my head...  We are sitting on my sofa, fingers intertwined, tears in my eyes.  He kisses me hungrily, hands nestled in my curls, moaning, telling me he never wants to leave.  We are both confused, unsure if we should have sex or never talk again.  I tell him that he needs to figure out what he wants, and he agrees,  Then he leaves my apartment and never comes back.

When I think about that night, which I do every day, a lump grows in the back of my throat. I feel worthless.  My master's degree, my two languages, my medical skills, my Fulbright, the way I treat the people I care about, my genuine love for learning and passion to make the world a better place mean nothing because I didn't accidently get pregnant from a one-night stand when I was 21.  If I had, he would still love me.

I want to want the best for him, and I am angry that I don't.  I never thought that out of all my relationships, he would be the man I don't talk to.

He moved to Chicago last month.  I reached out to him before he left, explained to him that being on good terms with him would help me find closure.  He did not respond.

I know that I am in the minority because I want to keep in touch with exes.  I do not have a single friend who thinks that my quest to be on good terms with a man who lied to me, was caught red-handed sending text messages to multiple women, and ultimately left me because I am not a young mom, is a worthwhile pursuit.  One friend said it best:  "I would punch him if I could."  Part of me wants that too.

But at the end of the day, I think it is a small tragedy for two people who once loved each other to lose a friendship, that sacred, bittersweet bond that ties a couple together long after the romance dies.  When the other five men commit to another woman , I will be wishing them the best, and I will mean it.  I hope that one day, I will be able do that for him as well.