First, Thank you.
Thank you to everyone who sent emails/messages over the last few days. And thank you for coming back and checking in on the blog after my little temper tantrum on Friday. I was in a bad place. I took a couple of days off to think and to live and it helped. I can’t exactly claim to have a new abundance of clarity. But I have a better idea of what direction I’m heading in now, and that’s a big thing. I owe lots of people emails. I promise to catch up in the next day or so.
So, about my weekend. I had a couple of great dates. On Friday night I met Mr. Perfect on Paper for drinks. It was kinda an awesome date, in a way. We live in the same neighborhood and he suggested we meet at a place I know and like, and then from there he suggested we go to a place I didn’t even know existed (which I LOVED – I love finding new places). We had plenty to talk about and laughed a lot. There was a significant chemistry deficit, I thought, but my mind wasn’t really on that. I was just happy to be out and having a blast.
And then, after we closed down the second bar, we headed back towards where we both live. There is a corner, a crossroads, where my apartment is in one direction and his is in the other direction. He kept walking, arm around me, towards his apartment until I stopped dead in my tracks. I remember thinking how bizarre it was that he was trying to steer me towards his place after such a “friendly” date (no touching, no sexual innuendo, no flirting). But, hey, I don’t blame a guy for trying.
I made a show of saying that I had a great time (in other words, “I like you, I’m just not ready to fuck you”) and we had a very chaste kiss goodnight. I don’t expect anything to come of it but like I said it was a great date.
Date number 2 was far more complicated. On Saturday night I met M for a drink. It took me over a week to decide whether or not I should meet with him. For most of that time I was leaning towards not doing it (and finally figuring out how to block his calls and send his emails straight to the trash). In the end, I caved, out of curiosity more than anything else. He just seemed so hell bent on seeing me/telling me something. And after all of this time I couldn’t imagine what there was left to say.
Here’s what I feel comfortable saying about that “date”. For the record, I didn’t dress for a date. My hair was unwashed and I wore my favorite ratty sweater and comfy jeans. M said all of the right things. ALL OF THEM. It was as if he was reading from the “what to say to make everything OK” book (and who knows, maybe he was).
I was honest with him and told him that I don’t trust him. And I don’t. I’d love to believe that he meant everything he said. I have every reason to believe that he was just saying what he thought I wanted to hear (and it was all quite lovely to hear).
But beyond the fact that I don’t trust him (and we still don’t live in the same city (minor inconveniences), setting those issues aside, it was the best night I’ve had in a really, really long time. The truth is that I have more fun hanging out with him than I do with anyone else. I smile more with him than when I’m with anyone else. Hell, I’m smiling just thinking about it.
I don’t know what’s going to come of it. Smart money is on nothing and me getting my heart broken into little tiny pieces. That’s the truth and I know it. M says otherwise. I’d like him to be right.
Tags: apartment, date, exes, first date, hell