The Art of Kissing Frogs....Part Two...

Tonight, as I sit here and type, I am listening to the most beautiful, romantic, Italian music. I am smitten with this artist and was only recently turned on to him in the last few weeks.  I am obsessed with learning the words in Italian.  I've played them so much, I'm close.  Now to translate.  It's not as hard as I thought it might be.  Music is powerful.  It fills my heart with hope and wistful yearning.  I don't think I'm so different from other women, when I say, I want to be swept away.  But at the same time, I am at the age where I know being "swept away" can be very intoxicating, but also leave you with a horrendous hangover if you only have feelings of passion and lust instead of a solid foundation to build on.

I lived a whole life on wistfulness, imagining, wishing for something different.  We had lots of passion for many years.  But it seemed the only real things we had in common were our children.  I wished for someone I could have deep, philosophical, engaging conversations with.  I wanted someone that could feel the pulse of my heart and want the same things I did. Someone that had a innate sense of wanting to know more of the world. Share rich experiences and adventures.  Love the differences in people and celebrate life every day.   When you are 20 years old and pregnant, you don't think about these things being important.  All you know is...you love him.  All you know is the day to day of responsibilities of working hard to pay the bills, raising children and putting your dreams on hold, because there is always something more pressing to take care of.  Not necessarily more important, but, when you are being responsible and doing the right thing...everything is more important than taking care of each other.

Since separating from my husband, I've had to learn to be alone.  I've always enjoyed my alone time, but actually living life alone is a whole other ball game.   The loneliness comes in waves.  Time is a precious commodity, but when you have too much time to fill, you get into your head more.  At least I do.  Whether that is a good thing or a bad thing, I'm not sure, but I continually think, or (maybe obsess, is a better word) about what I am looking for in a future companion.  I love the thought of having someone in my life.  I hate the thought of sharing my space.  I love the thought of nights of raging passion, but hate the thought of sleeping next to someone again.  I love the thought of nights snuggled on the couch watching a movie with someone, but hate the thought of losing control of the TV remote.   I love the thought of cooking with someone, but hate the thought it would be expected to make dinner every night.  Even though there is comfort in the familiar rituals of life, is it possible to have a relationship that doesn't turn ordinary and lackluster?

I've put the online dating thing on hold for the time being.  It was difficult.  As I said in  my last post, it was soul stealing.  It's not that I don't think there are good men out there, I just think with online dating, it's too forced.  You have men that are seriously looking for a lifetime relationship, and men that are looking for "a casual friend".   I actually had a man turn me down after I wrote in an email, that 'I wasn't interested in getting married in the near future.'  His response was, "I noticed you aren't interested in getting married.  I'm actually hoping to be married within the next 6-8 months."  Wow.  Another one wrote me an email asking  "Do I like massages"?  Great, I love massages, but this is your line? 

When you are lonely, you are susceptible to falling for the BS they write in their bios.  At least at first......I had one recently that went through every line of my bio and analyzed, broke it down and categorized the things he felt we had in common.  Flattering, but creepy.  My favorite emails are the ones that can't punctuate or spell. Come on Jethro....

My favorite two stories of online dating were in the beginning.  Kate tells me I made "Rookie Mistakes".  (Gawd, I don't want to be a seasoned pro at this...)  My very first online date was a "meet and greet" at a coffee shop.  His pictures looked reasonably attractive.  The moment I laid eyes on him, I knew there was no chemistry, no attraction whatsoever.  He didn't even have to speak.  After ordering a coffee, we sat down to talk.  His first mistake?  He sat next to me on the couch. Like in my space bubble.  He then filled my ears with banal talk about shutters and pixels, high resolution etc.  He was an incessant blinker.  I couldn't concentrate on a single word he said.  I was too distracted by the blinking.  Pretty soon, my mind was wandering...I really needed a manicure and a pedicure.  Badly.  Being that it was my first official date, I didn't know what protocol was on timing.  I needed to stop him.  I stood up abruptly and said, "I'm sorry, this isn't going to work, not now, not ever."  Apparently, blunt honesty is not appreciated, but I did get in a mani and pedi.

The next date, and remember, I've only had one previous to this one, was worse.  Much worse.  First of all, I felt talked into it.  If you remember, one of the biggest problems I've had in my relationship is my inability to say 'no', stand up for myself and say what I want.  This guy, who was almost old enough to be my dad, talked me into meeting him for a coffee date.  According to him, we had a 95% compatibility rating.  I don't give a shit about algorhythms anymore.  If I'm not attracted physically....ain't never going happen.  His age was the biggest issue for me.  He was too old.  I know how old I am, I'm under no illusions that I'm going to be with a 30 something in a lifetime/committed relationship, but please, 65? I also know, that my choices are not what they use to be, but I still have lots of offers.  Including 20 somethings.  Just as I have no interest in a 20 something, I have no interest in a 60 something.  I barely have interest in a  50 something. But, I digress.  So yes, 65 was too old.  Upon meeting him, I was completely and utterly turned off,  not to mention pissed off.  His photos in his bio were about 15 years old.  Clearly, he was not toned and athletic as his bio said.  As per protocol, we ordered coffee.  I sat across from him and listened to him tell me that he had now been single, longer than he had been married and after several knee surgeries, and pressing health issues, he was at the point where he really wanted to find his lifetime partner.  I'll bet.  To make it even better, he (of course, they all do) brings up sex.  His words were something like this: "If and when we are intimate..." okay, I don't remember the rest of the sentence.  I just heard the when we are intimate part and I wanted to bolt.  To make it all the more entertaining, he had the hiccups the entire time we talked.  Not slightly....but, bad hiccups.  I was very nice, as I always am, and told him I didn't mind if he wanted to hold his breath to try and get rid of them.  I thought perhaps, he would do a slight inhale and no big deal.  Oh no.  He took a gigantic breath in, closed his eyes and turned his head to the ceiling.  His entire face and ears turned purple as he held this pose for about 45 seconds.  He lets out a loud exhalation and nearly blows me off my chair.  Omg....what the hell was I doing there?

A few more dates like this and becoming a lesbian was a real possibility.  I was discouraged, but again...loneliness won out again.  I gave it another stab.  I had a few decent dates, no sparks, but nice men.  Then, another really bad one.  I should have known by his profile name "Onion Ass" that there was something seriously wrong with him.  I guess I just thought he was really sarcastically funny.  I told him in an email, that I was certain I was going to hate him (thinking I was being funny) but I was intrigued by his humor. 

After agreeing on a date, time and place, I show up, looking my best and as always, hopeful.  He was 15 minutes late.  As I got up to leave, thinking I had been stood up, my phone buzzes.  It was him texting me.  The text read like this: 'just jumping in the shower, 6 right?  Are you scared?' Uh...I wasn't....but now?  I'm fuming.  I'm not waiting until 6 pm when the agreed upon time was 5.  I stood up again to leave.  Another buzz.  "Just kidding, I'm inside at the bar".  He had been watching me out the window.  Creepy.  I sit down again.  Dumbfounded.  He allows me to sit there another five minutes.  Finally, I get up to leave AGAIN, and he walks through the door. 

Right.  Let me describe my first impression.  Scruffy, unshaven, and not in the rugged, handsome way.  More like the "I just got off a drinking binge and I'm hungover and didn't have time to shower and shave, unshaven way.  Baseball cap, stained T-shirt, faded shorts that looked to be plaid at one time and flip flops.  He couldn't look me in the eyes,  as he described without stopping;  his daughter in Juvenile detention for meth use, his ex-wife, who is serving time in prison for dealing meth, his DUI and time spent in Tent City, which turned out to be such a great experience because he met so many interesting people.  I'll just bet.  After 15 minutes of this, I put up my hand and said "STOP!  You have to stop right now!  You are a shitshow and I can't stay."  I said that.  Then I got up, paid my bill and left.  A new low for me. 

These are the most memorable.  The ones that make you question your decision to leave.  Was being married so bad?  I have had moments of doubt.  I've had lots of "firsts" as a single woman.  First Christmas, First Thanksgiving, First Easter, First Mother's Day... by myself, not as a family.  I'm learning what it is to create new memories.  Writing my own history and figuring out how to do it differently; the way that isn't the "old way".  It isn't easy, but it's getting easier.  Meeting men in this shallow dating pool, helps you to know what your values are and what you want.  But, is it out there?
I'm not ready for anything serious.  What I want short term, is friendship.  Companionship.  Someone to share a glass of wine or a concert with.  What I want long term is the same.  Eventually, I will be ready to share my bed all night.  But for now, I'm not.  My subscription runs out at the end of this month.  I won't be renewing it.  Not for a while at least.  The prize in the cereal box is at the bottom.  It will be the last place I look, where I least expect to find it.  No one keeps looking after they find something.  It will come.  Patience Tam.