I turned 31 in a manner similar to how I turned 30, drunk on boxed wine, camping with two friends alongside a river in the North Cascades National Park. Western medicine says I have four more years to bear a child without the diagnosis of "advanced maternal age," but I've learned to stop counting. It will happen, or it won't. I refuse to compromise my life because of a timeline.
The next day I went on a third date with this new man. Third dates are a rarity in my world- there have only been four in the last two years. Fourth dates, for which my blog is named, are even more elusive. There have been two, and one of them was a mistake.
I learn from my mistakes, though, and I have promised myself that I will not continue to date people any more when I see no future. The issues that show up early on are the same issues that break the relationship down the line. I see the red flags, and in the past I have tried to convince myself that I can look past them. I'm not doing that any more. When dating is right, it's right, and when I've been in love in the past I've had no doubts.
I showed up to this man's home, a sober house with three roommates. Decor was sparse and consisted of mismatched Craigslist couches and a television. I was thirsty, and he handed me a glass of water with floating green foam. We drove in his 1998 Honda Civic to a friend's potluck, and as the car lurched over Phinney Ridge I knew I couldn't do it any more. I felt like a snob, but I realized in my 31-year-old heart that I wanted something different.
We were about to make out, lying on his full-sized mattress on the floor of his room, his lithium and lamotrigine bottles visible on his bookshelf, when I told him that I had to be honest about my reservations. He listened to me and said he understood. "I know I'm weird," he said. "You're looking for a whole person, someone who has interests and has their act together. I'm just not there."
I nodded.
"So the question," he asked, "is where do you want to go from here?"
"I'm happy with this," I responded candidly. "I want to spend time with you, and I want to have sex with you, but I just know it's not going to progress to anything more serious on my end. I don't want to lie to you and have you think this is something it's not."
He told me I was awesome, and then we had sex. As it turns out, men are cool with keeping things casual as well.
The next day I went on a third date with this new man. Third dates are a rarity in my world- there have only been four in the last two years. Fourth dates, for which my blog is named, are even more elusive. There have been two, and one of them was a mistake.
I learn from my mistakes, though, and I have promised myself that I will not continue to date people any more when I see no future. The issues that show up early on are the same issues that break the relationship down the line. I see the red flags, and in the past I have tried to convince myself that I can look past them. I'm not doing that any more. When dating is right, it's right, and when I've been in love in the past I've had no doubts.
I showed up to this man's home, a sober house with three roommates. Decor was sparse and consisted of mismatched Craigslist couches and a television. I was thirsty, and he handed me a glass of water with floating green foam. We drove in his 1998 Honda Civic to a friend's potluck, and as the car lurched over Phinney Ridge I knew I couldn't do it any more. I felt like a snob, but I realized in my 31-year-old heart that I wanted something different.
We were about to make out, lying on his full-sized mattress on the floor of his room, his lithium and lamotrigine bottles visible on his bookshelf, when I told him that I had to be honest about my reservations. He listened to me and said he understood. "I know I'm weird," he said. "You're looking for a whole person, someone who has interests and has their act together. I'm just not there."
I nodded.
"So the question," he asked, "is where do you want to go from here?"
"I'm happy with this," I responded candidly. "I want to spend time with you, and I want to have sex with you, but I just know it's not going to progress to anything more serious on my end. I don't want to lie to you and have you think this is something it's not."
He told me I was awesome, and then we had sex. As it turns out, men are cool with keeping things casual as well.
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