The dating site I was on seems to have generated some quality interest of late. Yes, I admit, my absence here Is due to enjoying vacation time, but also because I’ve spent said vacation time working honing my cycling skills. Yes, I’ve reached the 63-mile marker in length of ride, and I’ve reached a 14.4 mph on a 49 mile ride which is decent. I’m still recovering from that ride, two days later. Other than hills, we pushed a pretty steady 18-22 mph. which is far faster than I ever ride on my own. But enough of that. I’ve been working out. My body is showing the results, in my tummy area (good-bye muffin top) and below my knees (hello cut calves and serious cycling definition). Now, if only I could obtain the cyclist’s butt and thighs. All in good time, I tell myself.
But this is not about my workout regimen, this is about my love life, or my almost love life.
Read the rest of this entry
Have you ever been on a trip in a new city, or maybe even a familiar city, where you are just cruising along so nicely, everything is going just as planned, and then, somehow, you get absorbed in the conversation going on in the car or you allow yourself that one little daydream for a few minutes and the next thing you know, you’ve missed the exit and you are now in completely uncharted territory. Nothing is familiar and you have only an inkling of how to get back to your original path. This, describes my life perfectly over the last decade. More recently, it describes my life in the last few days or weeks.
Friday night. According to all the “dating” rules, I should not be admitting publicly in any kind of venue that I am at home and not out on a date. I don’t care what the rules say. I’m having a fantastic time. I’ve been grinding away for two months on major work projects. Projects that revitalized me because I felt they were purposeful…and challenging…and interesting. Projects that kept me energized and distracted me from worrying about any number of things.
Okay, sure. Let’s be clear. If Perfect Relationship came along, I would hope I’d have the sense to go for it. The problem is, I don’t believe in “Perfect Relationship”? I just don’t think it exists and I believe that perpetrating the myth that a “Perfect Relationship” exists and is even viable, is incredibly damaging.
2:23 a.m. The big projects I was working on have come up to their deadline. Proposals submitted, bids received, offers accepted, contracts signed. Two out of three of the projects were successful, the third, a surprising disappointment in some ways. This third project, was not the most profitable one, so having to go back to the drawing board on this is not a horrible defeat. For me, it means, I get to return home during my evenings. I get to spend time with my kids. I get to live a bit more normal life. Which means, I’m wide awake at 2:23 a.m., for no apparent reason.
Mr. Just Right, from my last post, ended up pushing our meet up for cocktails on Wednesday to dinner and a movie Sunday evening. He showed up, promptly at 5:30 p.m. While he’s wonderful enough on paper, I knew immediately that he wasn’t Mr. Just Right after all. I don’t usually know this right away, but this time, I did. Maybe it was the fact that even though he’s only a few years older than me, he looked as frail and hunched over as my 90-year-old grandma used to look, when she was 90 years old. Not that I judge people entirely on how they look, but let’s face it: when you’re looking for a romantic partner, you have to, at least, be attracted enough to want to get romantic. I knew instantly that this was not going to get romantic. I also knew instantly that this was going to be a very long evening. Fortunately, much of it was going to be a movie, but I had to get through dinner first.
I am a freaking hypocrite.
I said I didn’t want to date anymore. I meant it. I really did. What am I saying? I still mean it. I do so love my independence and my life right now.
Best intentions have flown out the window. Innocently, though it was. I didn’t intend to get a date out of the interaction. I made a simple comment on Facebook, in response to a comment that resonated with me.
Next thing you know, we’re meeting up to listen to a local live musician we both know.
Read the rest of this entry
Early on, after my divorce, I figured I was racing the clock. You know, trying to beat that date on the calendar that somehow says you are now too old to be putting a profile up online. What that date is specifically, I don’t know. After a solid three years of meetups and a few relationships that lasted about 3 months before I was able to discern that, no matter what he said to me, he just really wasn’t that into me. Then there was this one relationship that I somehow completely missed the clues that he just wasn’t into me. Two years later, he’s disappeared into thin air and I haven’t heard a word from him since he left seven months ago. As I look back on it now, there were plenty of signs that he wasn’t as fully vested in the relationship as he said he was. Actions speak louder than words. I didn’t like the actions. Specifically, I didn’t like how they betrayed his words. I think I hung in there because I just didn’t want to admit that I had made another bad judgement call…again. I hung on when I should have let go. I was foolish.